Srom  t^e  feifirarg  of 
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to  f^e  fet6rftrt  of 
(J)rinceton  J^eofogicdf  ^eminarg 

BV  4501  .R38  1856 
Rauch,  Friedrich  August, 

1806-1841. 
The  inner  life  of  the 

Christian 


[rtpistop  PljatEli/s  Pfltfe. 


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THE 


INNER   LIFE 


f  l|e  €\xkim, y^^ffMiefr^ 


FEB  281912 


y 


REV.  FEEDERICK  A.  RAUCH,  D.P., 

FIRST   PRESIDENT   OF  MARSHALL  COLLEGE; 
AND  AUTHOR  OF   "  PSYCHOLOGT,   OR  A  VIEW  OF  THE  HUMAN  SOUL." 


EDITED      BY 


EEV.   E.   V.   GERHART, 

PRESIDENT   OF   FRANKLIN  AND   MARSHALL  COLLEGE,  LANCASTER,   PA. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

LINDSAY  AND  BLAKISTON. 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856, 

BY   LINDSAY   AND   BLAKISTON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


C.  SHERMAN  4  SON,   PRINTERS, 

19  St.  James  Street. 


PREFACE. 


Rev.  Fredekick  Augustus  Rauch,  born  in  Kircli- 
bracht,  Hesse  Darmstadt,  July  27tli,  1806,  was  a  gra- 
duate of  tlie  University  of  Marburg ;  subsequently  he 
prosecuted  the  study  of  Philosophy  and  Theology  in 
Giessen  and  Heidelberg,  and  was  then  appointed  Pro- 
fessor of  Philosophy  successively  in  these  two  celebrated 
Universities.  Becoming  obnoxious  to  Government  by 
the  expression  of  rather  liberal  political  sentiments,  he 
emigrated  to  America  in  1831,  and  spent  nearly  a  year 
in  Easton,  Pennsylvania,  where  he  was  elected  Pro- 
fessor of  the  German  Language  in  Lafayette  College. 
In  the  fall  of  1832,  he  was  elected  Principal  of  a  Classical 
School,  located  at  York,  Pa.,  and  filled  the  office  for  three 
years  with  superior  ability  and  great  success.  In  1835, 
the  School  was  removed  to  Mercersburg,  and  converted 
into  a  college  by  a  charter  from  the  Legislature  of  the 
State,  under  the  name  and  title  of  Marshall  College. 
Dr.  Ranch  was  chosen  President.  In  this  capacity  he 
labored  with  extraordinary  self-denial,  diligence,  and 

1- 


VI  PREFACE. 

zeal  until  March,  1841,  a  period  of  five  years,  when 
it  pleased  an  all-wise  Providence  to  call  him  to  his 
-  reward.     He  died  in  the  thirty-fifth  year  of  his  age, 
just  when  his  intellectual  vigor  had  fally  matured,  and 
he  was  turning  his  profound  scholarship  and  extensive 
erudition  to  greatest  account  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 
From  the  time  that  Dr.  Ranch  arrived  in  America, 
he  had  devoted  himself  with  great  assiduity  to  the 
study  of  the  language  of  his  adopted  country,  and  soon 
acquired  a  thorough  knowledge  of  its  laws  and  idioms ; 
and,  if  we  except  pronunciation,  he  may  be  said  to 
have  mastered  nearly  all  its  peculiarities.     Hence  he 
began  to  use  the  English  language  in  the  class-room  as 
soon  as  he  took  charge  of  the  School  at  York.    But 
when  he  became  President  of  Marshall  College,  he  felt 
that  his  duty  to  the  Institution  demanded  something 
more.     He  opened  a  regular  Sunday  Service  in  the 
College  Chapel  for  the  particular  benefit  of  the  students, 
and  took  his  turn  with  his  colleagues   in   the  public 
preaching  of  the  Gospel.     As  these  discourses  were  ela- 
borated generally  with  special  care,  and  have  frequently 
been  solicited  for  the  press  by  those  who  are  cognizant 
of  their  intrinsic  value,  a  number  of  them  were  placed 
in  the  hands  of  the  Editor  for  revision  and  publication 
about  a  year  ago  by  a  relative  of  the  Author ;  and  the 
present  volume  is  the  result. 

To  the  surviving  pupils  of  Ranch,  to  the  later  students 
of  the  College  over  which  he  presided,  as  well  as  to 
the  literary  and  religious  community  in  general  who 


PREFACE.  Vll 

have  learned  to  venerate  his  name  through  his  profound 
and  popular  work  on  Psychology,  we  doubt  not  this 
volume  will  be  an  acceptable  offering.  It  exhibits  his 
spirit  and  character  as  a  Christian,  the  nature  of  his 
labors  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  his  method  of 
thinking  in  its  direct  application  to  the  Christian  reli- 
gion. Though  not  popular  in  the  prevailing  sense  of  the 
word,  he  was  nevertheless  as  faithful,  instructive  and 
efficient  in  the  pulpit  as  he  was  thorough,  interesting 
and  successful  in  the  lecture-room.  A  clear  conception 
of  the  Divine  personality  of  Jesus  Christ  in  His  vital 
relation  to  the  doctrines  and  precepts  of  Christianity, 
gave  a  distinctive  tone  to  all  his  discourses.  In  some, 
philosophical  discussion  is  predominant,  and  for  this 
reason  such  may  properly  be  called  philosophico-theolo- 
gical  dissertations.  In  others,  clear  thought  and  tender 
feeling  are  beautifully  blended.  But,  though  the  de- 
termining influence  of  his  philosophical  thinking  upon 
the  order  of  discussion  and  upon  his  views  of  Divine 
truth,  is  always  seen  and  felt,  yet  the  recognition  of 
Jesus  Christ  as  the  true  God,  as  the  only  way  of  sal- 
vation, and  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  as  alone  possessing 
normal  authority  for  faith  and  practice,  reigns  supreme 
in  all,  and  gives  them  an  eminently  Christian  and 
practical  character,  as  distinguished  both  from  vapid 
sentimentalism  on  the  one  hand,  and  rationalistic 
speculation  on  the  other.  For  he  tested  the  truth  of 
all  his  views  in  theology  and  philosophy,  by  the  positive 
teachings  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles. 


viii  PREFACE. 

The  volume  acquires  interest  also  from  the  fact  that 
Dr.  Rauch  was  properly  the  founder  of  Marshall  Col- 
lege. Under  the  influence  of  his  powerful  mind,  sus- 
tained by  many  friends  of  classical  education  in  the 
German  Reformed  Church,  the  Institution  was  brought 
into  successful  operation.  By  his  energy,  scholarship, 
and  self-sacrificing  devotion,  aided  by  the  efficient 
labors  of  Professor  Samuel  W.  Budd,  its  first  reputa- 
tion for  literary  and  scientific  character  was  acquired. 
More  than  this,  however.  The  first  impulse  to  the- 
mode  of  thinking  which  has  distinguished  this  Institu- 
tion through  its  whole  history  from  many  similar  In- 
stitutions, it  received  from  the  system  of  Philosophy 
which  Dr.  Rauch  inculcated.  He  aimed  at  reproducing 
the  truth  of  German  philosophy  under  an  English  form 
in  the  light  of  supernatural  revelation.  Thus  he  in- 
fused an  Anglo-German  life  into  the  College,  which, 
though  modified  and  perfected  by  his  successors,  it  has 
nevertheless  retained  to  the  present  time.  The  volume 
now  ofiered  to  the  public,  nearly  sixteen  years  after  the 
Author's  death,  illustrates  the  fact  that  the  first  Presi- 
dent of  Marshall  College  was  a  decided  and  humble 
Christian  no  less  than  a  philosopher ;  that  his  philo- 
sophy was  neither  rationalism  nor  pantheism,  neither 
sensationalism  nor  transcendentalism  in  any  false  sense, 
but  really  Christian  ;  and  that  the  impulse  and  peculiar 
character,  which  the  Institution  received  from  him  in 
the  beginning,  was  not  hostile  or  prejudicial,  as  some 
have  alleged,  to  sound  Christian  ideas,  but  subservient 


PREFACE.  IX 

and  favorable  to  the  progress  of  orthodox  scientific 
theology  and  true  practical  religion. 

As  these  Discourses  were  not  prepared  for  publication 
by  the  Author,  it  was  necessary  to  subject  them  to  a 
careful  revision.  This  the  Editor  has  endeavored  to 
do.  A  pupil  of  Dr.  Ranch  for  nearly  eight  years,  and 
having  lived  in  intimate  friendship  with  him,  especially 
during  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  the  Editor  flatters  him- 
self that  he  possesses  some  qualifications  for  the  deli- 
cate and  responsible  task.  He  laid  down  two  princi- 
ples of  revision,  which  have  been  rigidly  applied  from 
beginning  to  end.  First,  to  limit  the  revision  strictly 
to  the  work  of  editing  the  Discourses — to  make  such 
changes,  but  such  only,  touching  the  use  of  particles 
and  phrases,  as  the  Editor  believes  the  Author  himself 
would  have  made  were  he  now  revising  the  work  for 
the  press.  Secondly,  to  preserve  every  phase  of  thought, 
and  retain  all  the  peculiarities  of  the  Author's  style, 
with  scrupulous  fidelity.  Ko  liberty  whatever  has 
been  taken  with  the  language  in  these  respects.  Ver- 
bal modifications  have  been  made  only  in  order  to 
remove  traces  of  the  German  idiom,  and  convey  clearly 
the  evident  meaning  of  the  Author  throughout  in  a 
purely  English  style. 

In  making  a  selection  for  the  present  volume,  the 
Editor  has  been  guided  partly  by  the  comparative 
merits  of  the  Discourses,  and  partly  by  a  reference  to 
an  order  of  subjects.  It  was  felt  to  be  desirable  that 
the  book  possess  as  much  unity  and  logical  connection 


X  PREFACE. 

as  it  was  possible  to  give  to  it  under  tlie   circum- 
stances. 

It  was  the  practice  of  Dr.  Eauch  to  write  out  care- 
fully the  first  or  principal  prayer  used  at  public  wor- 
ship. As  these  prayers  are  edifying  and  aid  in  afford- 
ing the  reader  an  insight  into  the  spirit  and  character 
of  the  man,  we  have  allowed  them  to^  hold  their  proper 
place.  A  number  are  manifestly  incomplete,  but  they 
have  been  inserted  without  any  additions.  In  some 
cases  the  prayer  is  wanting  entirely  in  the  manuscript. 

"With  these  preliminary  remarks  we  submit  this  post- 
humous work  to  the  Christian  community,  and  com- 
mend it  to  the  blessing  of  Him  in  whose  service  the 
Author  lived  and  labored  and  died. 

E.  V.  G. 

Lancaster,  Pennsylvania, 
Oct.  13tb,  1856. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

The  Prixciple  of  the  Ixner  Life,     .            .            .  .13 

The  Communiox  of  the  Inner  Life,          ...  34 

The  Nurture  of  the  Inner  Life,       .            .            .  .49 

The  Fruits  of  the  Inner  Life,     ....  69 

The  Humility  of  the  Inner  Life,      .            .            .  .87 

The  Author  of  the  Inner  Life  at  Jacob's  Well,         .  109 

The  Author  of  the  Inner  Life  as  a  Servant,        .  .125 

The  Author  of  the  Inner  Life  bearing  His  Cross,     .  136 

The  Author  of  the  Inner  Life  on  the  Cross,        .  •  .      149 

The  Love  of  the  Inner  Life,       .            .            .            .  162 
The  Inner  Life  of  Thomas,     .....      175 

The  Inner  Life  of  Mart  Magdalene,      .            .            .  198 

The  Social  Joys  of  the  Inner  Life,             .            .  .     220 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

Page 

The  Inner  Life  a  Song  of  Praise,  .  .  •  245 

The  Inner  Life  a  Pilgrimage,  ....      268 

The  Final  Conflict  op  the  Inner  Life,  .'  .  289 

The  Final  Triumph  of  the  Inner  Life,       .  .  .315 


THE 
INNEU  LIFE   OF  THE  CHRISTIAN, 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

Acts  17  :  18. 

"  Then  certain  pliilosopbers  of  the  Epicureans,  and  of  the  Stoics, 
encountered  him.  And  some  said,  AVhat  will  this  babbler  say?  Other 
some.  Ho  seemetli  to  be  a  setter  forth  of  strange  gods :  because  he 
preached  unto  them  Jesus  and  the  resurrection." 

Lord,  our  Heavenly  Father !  Thou  art  Light  and 
Holiness,  but  we  are  sinners.  Whatever  is  good 
and  noble  proceeds  from  Thee,  and  has  its  origin 
in  Thee;  but  whatever  is  evil  and  sinful,  takes  its 
rise  in  our  hearts  and  flows  forth  from  them  into 
our  thoughts  and  words  and  actions.  Thou  givest 
what  is  good  and  perfect ;  we  abuse  it  and  make  it 
a  source  of  evil.  All  thy  laws,  Lord !  are  good 
and  perfect;  thy  institutions  and  commandments 
are  good  and  tend  to  the  welfare  of  all  created 
beings ;  but  we,  Lord !  dishonor  them,  disobey 
them,  violate  them,  and  thus  change  the  intended 
source  of  bliss  into  a  fountain  of  misery.  This, 
Lord !  is  our  guilt,  that  we  abuse  Thy  gracious 
goodness,  and   do  not  acknowledge    Thee  as  the 


14  THE     PRINCIPLE     OF 

Author  and  Ruler  of  the  universe,  and  do  not  love 
Thee  as  our  Benefactor  and  Preserver. 

Lord  !  we  pray  that  Thou  wilt  make  us  sensible 
of  this  our  great  guilt;  that  Thou  wilt  open  our 
blind  eyes  and  shed  the  Light  of  Thy  Spirit  upon 
them,  that  we  may  be  able  to  see  Thee  and  Thy 
perfections,  to  adore  and  worship  Thee,  and  to  honor 
Thee  by  devoting  every  power,  every  wish,  and 
every  thought  to  Thy  service.  0  that  we  were 
enabled.  Lord !  all  of  us,  to  see  that  the  sin  of  all 
sin,  the  root  and  seat  of  all  vices  and  all  evil  acti- 
vities, is  our  unbelief;  that  we  cannot  be  good  and 
virtuous  without  faith. 

May  we  acknowledge  this,  0  Lord !  with  be- 
coming humility,  and  lay  aside  all  pride,  all  re- 
liance on  our  own  strength,  and  all  hope  in  our  own 
righteousness.  May  we  come  before  Thee  with 
humbleness  and  meekness  and  say :  Here,  Lord ! 
we  are  ready  to  receive  the  operations  of  Thy  Holy 
Spirit.  May  we  lay  aside  the  weapons  of  an  unre- 
generated  reason,  of  wit  and  acuteness,  and  cease 
fighting  against  our  Maker ;  with  a  contrite  heart 
may  we  desire  and  long  for  Him  who  loved  us  unto 
death ;  and  may  we  consider  it  our  highest  bless- 
ing while  we  live,  and  our  highest  consolation  in 
the  hour  of  death,  that  we  were  privileged  to  praise 
the  Lord  and  serve  Him. 

We  pray,  Lord  !  that  Thou  wilt  be  with  us  as  we 
are  assembled  here  to-day.  Strengthen  those  among 
us  that  believe  in  Thee^  and  increase  their  know- 


THE     INNER     LIFE,  15 

ledge  and  love ;  be  with  those  that  are  still  out  of 
Christ;  show  tliein  their  perilous  situation  and 
constrain  them,  by  seeing  it,  to  hasten  to  the  cross. 
May  they  feel.  Lord !  that  without  faith  none  is 
acceptable  to  Thee.  May  they  admit  in  their  hearts, 
that  the  length  of  time  allotted  to  them  is  unknown 
to  them  and  to  all  of  us,  but  that  there  is  nothing 
more  certain  than  death,  and  after  death,  the  judg- 
ment. May  they  flee  from  Thy  wrath  and  accept  the 
ofiers  of  mercy,  whilst  they  have  it  in  their  power. 
Bless  all  thy  people,  wherever  they  worship  Thee 
to-day.'-"" 

Unbelief  in  its  general  results,  is  everywhere  the 
same;  but  it  may  spring  from  essentially  different 
fountains,  and  from  them  draw  a  nourishment  which 
makes  it  more  or  less  dangerous  to  those  within  the 
reach  of  its  influence.  When  a  rude  and  uncul- 
tivated man,  belonging  to  a  low  state  of  cultivation 
although  living  in  a  civilized  country,  laughs  at  the 
emotions  of  a  pious  and  devoted  Christian ;  when 
he  acknowledges  nothing  but  what  is  accessible  to 
his  unrefined  sensibility — we  neither  feel  offended, 
nor  do  Ave  see  any  dangers  arising  from  his  influ- 
ence. His  senses  are  obtuse,  his  thinking  power 
unexercised,  his  whole  disposition  bent  to  the  earth 
on  which  he  lives;  hence  his  unbelief,  basing  itself 

*  The  conclusion  of  this  pra3'er  and  of  some  others,  was  evi- 
dently not  written.  But  we  give  them  without  any  additions,  as 
we  find  them  in  the  manuscript. — Ed. 


IG  THE     PRINCIPLE     OF 

upon  a  degradation  of  human  nature,  rather  dis- 
gusts than  alarms  us. 

Again,  if  a  sensual  and  vokiptuous  man,  who 
has  made  pleasure  the  object  of  his  life,  denies  the 
existence  of  God,  and  scorns  the  idea  of  a  Saviour 
and  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  we  know  that 
the  cause  of  his  infidelity  is  a  wish  to  be  unmolested 
by  the  voice  of  conscience,  when  he  is  about  to 
deceive  innocence,  or  break  a  promise,  or  empty  the 
cup  of  sensuality,  or  serve  all  the  contemptible 
desires  of  his  depraved  heart.  When  such  men 
avow  their  infidelity  we  feel  disgusted ;  our  moral 
sense  stamps  them  with  contempt;  our  judgment 
perceives  a  poisonous  fruit  that  has  grown  on  the 
tree  of  sin  and  vice.  Against  such  infidelity  wc 
need  not  warn  men — it  is  not  attractive  but  repul- 
sive. 

It  is  far  otherwise,  when  men  whom  Providence 
has  gifted  with  many  talents,  whom  constant 
application  has  adorned  with  knowledge,  and  whom 
faithfulness  has  rendered  useful  as  citizens  and 
eminent  in  their  profession ;  when  men  who  lead 
an  honest  and  blameless  life,  who  do  not  scoff  at 
religion,  nor  look  down  with  an  eye  of  pity  on  its 
adherents ;  when  such  men  do  not  embrace  Christ 
by  faith,  but  caught  by  the  net  of  infidelity,  tear 
asunder  the  ties  which  bind  them  to  their  Saviour ; 
when,  though  they  do  not  doubt  a  Providence,  a 
First  Cause  of  all,  nor  an  eternity,  they  are,  never- 
theless, strangers  to  the  altar,  and  visit  the  assem- 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  17 

blies  of  Christians  only  as  critics,  but  not  from  a 
desire  for  religious  instruction  :  the  respect  which 
their  wisdom  and  moral  life  secure  to  them,  forbids 
us  to  disregard  their  indifference  to  religion  ;  for  it 
misleads  the  unwaiy,  ensnares  the  unsuspicious, 
and  arrests  the  attempts  of  youth  to  enter  the 
narrow^path,  which  leads  through  thorns  and  briers 
to  Heaven.  This  is  the  unbelief  of  which  the  text 
speaks. 

At  first  sight,  it  might  appear  that  the  unbelief 
of  the  Epicureans  was  that  of  levity ;  for  we  are 
accustomed  to  look  upon  them  as  mere  sensualists. 
History,  however,  proves,  that  their  philosophical 
system  tended  not  only  to,  but  terminated  in,  that  of 
the  Stoics,  whose  names  are  associated  in  our  memory 
with  great  and  grave  wisdom.  The  principle  of 
Epicureanism  was  a  rejined  and  prudent  self-love, 
which  prompted  the  endeavor  to  reduce  imins  and 
vmnts  to  the  smallest,  and  increase  ^^Zeaswres  to  the 
highest  degree  ;  to  select  of  all  pleasures  those  that 
were  both  most  refined  and  most  durable,  and 
always  to  preserve  an  unclouded  serenity.  This 
latter  point  led  to  Stoicism  ;  for  in  order  to  be 
cheerful  constantly,  we  must  feel  entirely  indepen- 
dent of  all  things  around  us,  neither /ear  nor  liope 
too  ardently,  but  always  be  ready  to  resign  every 
wish  and  every  possession.  A  wise  man,  in  their 
opinion,  was  one,  who,  free  from  every  fear  and 
hope,  free  from  the  dominion  of  every  passion,  was 
ever  conscious  of  his  moral  greatness  and  felt  the 


18  THE    PRINCIPLE    OF 

highest  gratification  in  viewing  his  own  virtues. 
In  these  the  happiness  of  man  was  placed.  Thus 
every  one  was,  or  sought  to  be,  the  author  of  his 
own  fortune  during  life.  The  unbelief  of  the 
Epicureans  and  Stoics  can,  therefore,  not  be  classed 
with  that  proceeding  from  levity,  nor  with  that 
whose  source  is  an  obtuse  mind  ;  it  took  its  origin 
in  too  high  an  estimate  placed  by  them  upon  their 
wisdom  or  upon  their  reason. 

This  undue  estimation  is  even  in  our  day  a  pro- 
lific source  of  indifference  to  religion ;  I  have, 
therefore,  made  it  the  subject  of  my  present  dis- 
course. My  design  is  to  show  that,  though  reason 
and  faith  are  not  at  war  with  each  other,  and  though 
reason  is  a  high  gift  of  man,  yet  it  is  not  the  proper 
criterion  to  be  applied  in  judging  of  Christianity, 
nor  can  its  attacks  upon  Christianity  ever  de- 
stroy it. 

I.  In  attempting  to  show  this,  I  neither  desire  to 
lower  the  value  of  reason,  as  if  religion  can  gain  in 
proportion  as  reason  loses,  nor  to  attribute  to  faith 
what  really  does  not  belong  to  it.  In  comparing 
one  with  the  other,  I  am  ready  at  once  to  admit, 
that  reason  is  the  highest  gift  we  possess  in  a  state 
of  nature.  It  is  reason,  which  makes  man  the 
lord  of  the  earth  and  renders  him  the  most  wonder- 
ful of  all  creatures.  It  is  reason,  that  puts  the 
bridle  into  the  mouth  of  the  horse  to  subdue  him, 
that  spreads  the  net  in  the  air  to  catch  the  swift- 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  19 

flying  bird,  and  throws  the  angle  into  the  water 
to  entice  its  inhabitants.  It  is  reason,  that  leads 
off  the  lightning  from  our  houses,  that  makes  the 
ocean  yield  its  tribute,  that  governs  the  elements, 
and  renders  what  in  itself  is  destructive  and  awful, 
useful  to  man.  It  is  reason,  that  measures  the 
distances  and  dimensions  of  the  stars  of  heaven, 
that  foretells  the  regular  return  of  the  seasons,  and, 
sinking  itself  into  its  own  unfathomable  depth, 
constructs  systems  of  science,  discovers  the  secret 
powers  of  nature,  and  with  the  wings  of  a  Dredalus 
finds  its  way  out  of  every  labyrinth  to  the  centre 
of  light. 

But  everything  human  has  its  two  sides.  The 
same  reason,  which  is  so  wonderful  in  itself  and 
does  such  wonderful  things,  in  a  state  of  nature, 
labors  only  for  our  own  interests,  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  our  depraved  desires  and  passions.  It  has 
not  only  invented  the  instruments  with  which  we 
cultivate  the  field,  but  also  the  machinery  with 
which  we  torture  and  destroy  our  fellow-men. 
Keason  not  only  remembers  the  injury  done  us  and 
meditates  revenge,  but  even  hates  those  whom 
we  have  offended,  calumniates  our  brother,  and 
converts  truth  into  fixlsehood  whenever  our  advan- 
tage may  seem  to  require  it.  He  is  frequently 
thought  to  be  the  wisest,  who  knows  best  how  to 
use  the  failings  of  others  for  his  own  benefit,  who 
is  most  cunning  and  crafty  in  the  abuse  of  confi- 
dence placed  in  him,  and  of  candor  and  honesty 


20  THE     PRINCIPLE     OF 

observed  towards  him.  Deceptions,  quarrels,  mur- 
ders, wars,  are  carried  on  systematically  only  by  the 
human  race  and  nowhere  else  in  nature ;  for  to  de- 
sign evil,  reason  is  requisite. 

Reason,  then,  as  all  must  admit,  places  man  in- 
deed at  the  summit  of  a  fallen  creation,  but  it  can- 
not raise  him  beyond  it ;  a  member  of  the  whole, 
he  is  at  the  same  time  the  fountain  head  of  de- 
pravity. But  what  reason  cannot  do,  faith  effects  ; 
it  gives  man  an  entrance  into  Heaven. 

What  is  faith  ?  This  is  the  most  natural  question 
here.  Yet  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  answer  it.  He 
who  has  it,  will  but  rarely  inquire  into  its  nature ; 
and  he  wdio  has  it  not,  cannot  understand  it.  Who 
would  undertake  to  describe  color  to  one  born  blind, 
or  sound  to  the  deaf  and  dumb  ?  Light  is  only 
,where  there  is  an  eye  to  see  it,  and  sound,  where 
there  is  an  ear  to  hear  it :  take  away  the  eye  and 
the  ear,  and  light  and  sound  cease  to  be  for  us.  So 
it  is  with  faith.  No  one  can  understand  it,  unless 
he  has  that  in  him,  which  disposes  him  to  perceive 
it,  or,  in  other  words  :  no  one  can  know  what  faith 
is  unless  he  has  turned  from  sin  to  holiness — from 
the  visible  to  the  invisible — from  this  earthly  abode 
to  our  heavenly  home.  Without  repentance  there 
is  no  faith.  Nor  can  any  one,  on  the  other  hand, 
understand  what  repentance  is  without  faith.  Both 
condition  each  other,  and  depend  on  each  other : 
both  proceed  from  communion  with  God,  our  Crea- 
tor— both  are  directed  and  direct  man  upon   his 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  21 

Father  in  Heaven.  Without  faith  no  one  can  re- 
pent ;  without  repentance  no  one  can  believe,  lie 
that  does  not  believe  in  his  eternal  homo,  will  not 
turn  towards  it ;  he  that  never  turns  his  mind  to- 
wards it,  will  not  believe  in  it.  As  ftiith  reveals 
the  kingdom  of  Christ  to  the  understanding  and 
heart,  so  does  repentance  open  the  heart  to  faith. 
If  we  believe  without  repentance,  we  deceive  our- 
selves ;  if  we  repent  without  faith,  we  torture  our- 
selves. The  one  is  contained  in  the  other.  The 
question  :  What  is  faith  ?  is  difficult  to  be  answered, 
therefore,  not  because  we  can  not  give  a  definition 
of  it,  but  because  the  best  definition  will  not  give 
him  an  idea  of  faith  who  does  not  possess  it.  If  I 
say :  Faith  is  that  power,  whose  equal  cannot  be 
found  anywhere,  the  power  that  gives  sight  to  the 
blind,  hearing  to  the  deaf,  life  to  the  dead,  it  will 
require  faith  to  believe  in  it.  If  I  say :  It  is  the 
power  of  God,  that  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  heals 
the  sick,  gives  peace  to  the  troubled  and  comfort  to 
the  afflicted,  again  faith  will  be  required  to  believe 
in  it.  This  power  exists  and  works,  but  those  that 
do  not  believe  in  it,  have  not  the  ability  to  perceive 
it :  so  is  every  spring  adorned  with  beautiful  flowers, 
yet  a  blind  man  does  not  see  them :  so  do  the  most 
lovely  sounds  float  around  the  ears  of  a  deaf  man, 
yet  he  does  not  hear  them.  As  long  as  man  is 
satisfied  with  the  vain  things  of  the  earth,  as  long 
as  his  wishes  do  not  extend  beyond  what  is  visible, 
he  cannot  understand  the  nature  of  faith.     He  may 


22  THE     PUiNCirLE     OF 

ask  after  it,  he  may  even  enter  upon  subtle  specu- 
lations concerning  it,  but  the  gates  of  Heaven, 
though  open  to  the  eye  of  faith,  will  remain  closed 
to  his  dull  and  sensual  sight.  He  lives  in  the  dust, 
from  which  he  is  taken  and  to  which  he  must  re- 
turn ;  and  what  his  senses  cannot  perceive  has  no 
existence  for  him.  But  to  the  Christian,  faith  is 
that  power  which  connects  Heaven  and  earth,  the 
Creator  and  the  creation ;  to  him,  it  is  a  messenger 
from  God  to  the  soul,  a  bringer  of  eternal  life,  a 
torch  in  the  darkness  of  his  earthly  pilgrimage,  a 
guide  to  Heaven.  This  power  we  have,  when  we 
feel  the  connection  between  Heaven  and  earth,  be- 
tween our  Creator  and  ourselves,  the  Visible  and  In- 
visible ;  when  whatever  we  desire  or  undertake, 
think  or  do,  proceeds  spontaneously  from  the  idea 
of  this  connection ;  this  power  we  have,  when, 
deeply  feeling  our  depravity,  we  long  after  purity 
and  holiness,  and  after  the  way  that  leads  to  both. 

II.  Having  seen  that  faith  and  reason  differ,  let 
us  inquire,  in  the  second  place :  Are  they  tiecessarUy 
opposed  to  each  other  ? 

The  opinion  of  some  is  that  reason  is  the  enemy 
of  faith,  and  philosophy  that  of  theology.  This 
opinion,  if  carried  out  consistently,  would  lead  to 
the  conclusion  that  faith  is  Uind — that  in  order  to 
believe  we  must  suspend  our  thinking  powers. 
Faith  without  thought  is  superstition ;  thinking 
without  faith  produces  infidelity;   in  both  cases, 


THE     INNEli     LIFE.  2o 

therefore,  when  faith  excludes  reason  or  when  rea- 
son excludes  faith,  there  is  sin  and  vice.  Faith 
does  not  exclude  reason,  but  is  full  of  reason,  and 
as  all  Christians  maintain,  is  based  on  the  best  of 
reasons.  Christians  do  not  resign  the  use  of  their 
reason ;  they  think  as  well  as  the  unbeliever,  who 
prides  himself  on  his  own  thoughts  and  wisdom ;  but 
Christians  think  otJienclse.  Faith  and  reason,  do 
therefore  not  oppose  but  include  each  other;  and 
only  when  our  depraved  desires  apply  the  one 
where  the  other  ought  to  prevail,  do  they  come 
into  conflict.  Each  of  them  has  its  appropriate 
sphere ;  and  each  sphere  it  will  be  well  to  point 
out  in  a  few  words. 

Man  enjoys  many  faculties,  but  each  only,  when 
applied  to  its  appropriate  object,  between  which  and 
itself  there  is  a  predetermined  correspondence,  and 
by  which  alone  its  activity  can  be  elicited.  So 
each  of  our  senses  has  its  appropriate  object,  the 
eye  light,  the  ear  sound ;  but  if  we  should  ever  de- 
sire to  see  with  the  ear  or  to  hear  with  the  eye,  we 
would  deprive  ourselves  of  the  knowledge  which 
can  alone  be  obtained  by  making  use  of  the  proper 
sense.  So  it  is  likewise,  if  we  attempt  to  reason 
where  we  should  believe ;  we  then  lose  the  object 
of  faith,  and  faith  itself.  Reason  has  its  appro- 
priate sphere  of  action.  This  sphere  is  life  and  its 
concerns,  science  and  its  development.  God  gave 
man  reason,  that  he  might  investigate  the  powers 
of  nature  and  use  them  for  his  service.     Without 


24  TnEPRINCIPLEOF 

faith,  however,  reason  can  effect  but  httle ;  for 
whatever  lies  beyond  external  nature,  falls  within 
the  sphere  of  faith.  We  see,  for  example,  the  seed 
cast  into  the  earth  put  forth  its  roots,  its  stem,  its 
branches,  leaves,  and  blossoms ;  but  the  power  that 
works  in  it,  the  law,  according  to  which  the  species 
preserves  itself  in  its  individual  plant,  we  cannot 
see.  From  its  phenomena  we  conclude  upon  the 
power  itself,  though  our  senses  cannot  perceive  it, 
nor  reason  demonstrate  it.  Here,  then,  begins  the 
sphere  of  faith — not  of  the  faith  of  the  Christian  but 
of  common  faith.  Where  we  cannot  see  things  with 
our  eyes,  nor  ascertain  them  with  our  reason,  but 
are  nevertheless  forced  to  admit  their  existence, 
there  we  believe.  The  sphere  of  natural  reason  is 
the  Visible,  that  of  faith  the  Invisible;  without 
some  kind  of  faith,  even  the  most  violent  infidel 
cannot  live ;  without  it  he  could  not  eat  nor  drink, 
nor  have  a  friend  ;  or,  as  some  one  has  said,  with- 
out it  man  is  confined  to  himself  and  stands  alone, 
without  father,  mother,  or  friend.  And  there  is  no 
more  certainty  in  the  objects  of  reason,  than  in 
those  of  faith.  As  the  e^^e  demands  the  light,  so 
the  world  within  demands  the  existence  of  the  In- 
visible. What  our  eyes  see  we  believe,  and  the 
ground  of  belief  is  found  in  the  formation  of  the  eye 
and  its  adaptation  to  things  visible.  What  faith 
sees  we  must  believe,  and  the  ground  of  our  belief 
is  the  constitution  of  the  soul.  The  shining  light 
needs  nothing  else  to  make  itself  manifest,  because 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  25 

the  eye  stands  in  need  of  it  and  desires  it.  Tlie 
soul  is  so  constituted  that  it  stands  in  need  of  a  spiri- 
tual world ;  but  when  we  need  a  thing,  when  we  can- 
not do  without  it,  when  without  it  we  cannot  reach 
our  purposes,  nor  preserve,  develop,  and  perfect  our- 
selves, we  are  ready  to  believe  in  it.  As  our  lungs 
demand  the  air,  and  our  bodies  food,  so  our  souls  de- 
mand an  invisible  w^orld  of  spirit.  There  are  wants 
which  man  has  created  by  his  own  art;  these  are  not 
necessary  to  his  existence.  There  are  others,  which 
may  be  satisfied  without  faith;  we  may  nourish 
our  bodies,  gratify  our  senses,  quench  our  thirst 
for  rank,  for  riches  and  influence  without  faith ; — 
but  the  wants  of  the  soul,  its  irresistible  desire  for 
eternal  happiness,  for  truth,  for  holiness,  demand 
a  home  beyond  the  skies,  and  to  admit  these  wants 
and  desires  is  to  believe  in  that  home.  What  we 
desire  we  are  inclined  to  believe  ;  and  what  it  is 
impossible  for  us  to  do  without,  we  cannot  help 
admitting.  And  who  is  there,  that  would  not  ac- 
knowledge, that  though  he  eats  and  drinks  accord- 
ing to  the  desire  of  his  heart,  he  is,  nevertheless, 
not  satisfied ;  that  he  constantly  seeks  something 
in  riches  or  learning  without  finding  what  he  seeks ; 
that  he  labors,  but  effects  nothing ;  that  he  gathers 
but  gains  nothing ;  that  he  is  surrounded  by  abun- 
dance, but  feels  poor.  It  is  faith  alone  that  can 
satisfy  these  internal  demands  of  the  soul ;  hence 
it  is,  that  we  are  constrained  to  believe  in  the 
objects  of  faith,  and  that  faith  has  as  much  cer- 


26  THE     PEINCIPLE     OF 

tainty  for  us  as  the  conviction  produced  by  expe- 
rience. 

Why  then  do  we  believe  in  God?  Though  the 
faith  of  the  Christian  differs  widely  from  the  faith 
just  exhibited,  the  question:  Wliy  do  we  believe 
in  God  or  in  Christ?  must  be  answered  on  a  similar 
ground.  We  believe,  because  the  Spirit  of  truth 
has  operated  upon  us,  and  constrained  us  to  ac- 
knowledge a  Creator  of  the  universe  and  a  Ruler 
over  our  lives.  There  would  be  a  chasm,  a  flaw, 
in  our  thoughts  without  this  belief.  We  believe 
in  Him,  because  we  acknowledge  with  a  grateful 
heart  the  many  blessings  He  has  bestowed  upon  us, 
the  many  benefits  He  has  poured  out  upon  the  whole 
creation;  because  the  wonderful  order  and  beauty 
of  the  world  awake  our  hearts  to  love  Him ;  and 
because  thousands  and  thousands  of  ties  bind  us  to 
Him,  whose  image  we  are  and  in  whom  we  live 
and  move  and  have  our  being. 

And  so  Ave  believe  in  Christ,  because  He  ofiers  our 
hearts  what  they  need ;  because  by  His  righteous- 
ness and  passion  He  has  secured  to  us  reconciliation 
with  God;  because  He  has  given  us  the  peace  we 
had  not,  and  the  salvation  which  we  sought  for  in 
vain;  because  in  Him  true  light,  life,  grace,  and 
truth  appear;  because  we  know  His  voice  and  un- 
derstand it;  because  we  know  that  He  is  the  good 
Shepherd,  that  knows  His  own  and  is  known  of 
them,  for  whom  He  laid  down  His  life  that  they 
might  live  through  Him.     We  believe  in  Him  and 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  27 

love  Him,  because  His  truth  refreshes,  comforts, 
cheers,  and  consoles  us;  for  it  teaches  us  that  there 
is  a  God,  a  Creator,  a  Preserver,  and  Ruler,  and  an 
eternal  Judge  of  the  world,  and  an  eternal  home  of 
happiness  and  bliss. 

We  have  seen,  then,  that  reason  and  faith  are 
not  opposed  to  each  other,  but  that  each  has  its 
appropriate  sphere,  and  that  they  oppose  each  other 
only  when  a  corrupt  heart  undertakes  to  model 
them  according  to  its  desires.  Let  it  be  remem- 
bered, 

III.  That  reason  should  not  jpresume  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  matters  of  faith. 

Faith,  as  has  been  shown,  possesses  an  internal 
evidence,  which  exists  only  for  him  wdio  has  faith. 
We  cannot  prove  anything,  unless  we  have  its 
spirit;  we  cannot  judge  of  a  thing  unless  we  have 
a  measure  by  which  to  value  it;  and  how  should 
reason,  unacquainted  with  this  internal  evidence, 
with  the  only  way  of  proving  faith,  be  able  to  judge 
of  it?  To  call  this  internal  evidence  our  own,  we 
must  have  experienced  it,  and  before  we  have  done 
so,  we  have  no  right  to  reason  on  it.  Every  right 
presupposes  the  fulfilment  of  a  duty,  and  none  can 
morally  enjoy  the  former  without  performing  the 
latter.  I  have  a  right  to  live  only,  if  I  perform  the 
duty  of  preserving  the  life  and  health  of  my  body, 
and  respecting  the  rights  of  my  fellow-men.     He 


28  THE     PRINCirLE     OF 

who  claims  the  right  of  judging  of  faith,  must  have 
performed  the  duty  of  having  made  himself  ac- 
quainted with  its  spirit,  its  nature  and  objects,  else 
he  will  be  like  the  blind  man  who  judges  of  color, 
or  like  the  deaf  man  who  speaks  of  the  sounds  of 
music.  Whenever  reason  presumes  to  judge  with- 
out having  experienced  faith,  it  universally  leads 
to  doubting.  For  it  is  the  nature  of  reason  to  doubt 
what  it  cannot  understand,  and  to  ridicule  it. 

But  neither  scepticism  nor  ridicule  was  ever 
able  to  injure  the  Christian  religion.  Scepticism 
cannot  injure  it,  because  it  is  too  weak  in  itself, 
and  religion  too  strong.  The  sceptic  says :  We 
can  hnoiD  nothing ;  but  in  saying  so  he  contradicts 
himself;  for  if  it  is  certain  that  ice  can  hnow  no- 
thing, we  must  know  this  at  least  to  be  a  fact,  and 
consequently  we  know  something.  And  this  very 
knowledge  is  saving  knowledge ;  it  is  the  beginning 
of  all  wisdom.  The  sceptic  says :  "  We  cannot 
attain  to  any  truth ;"  but  this  that  we  cannot  attain 
to  any  truth,  he  admits  to  be  truth,  and  consequently 
contradicts  himself.  If  he  would  listen  to  this  con- 
tradiction, if  he  would  apply  his  rule,  to  doubt 
everything  concerning  religion,  to  his  own  doubts 
also,  he  would  soon  free  himself  from  this  vulture 
that  preys  on  his  vitals.  The  truly  consistent 
sceptic,  who  doubts,  not  because  he  desires  that 
there  may  be  no  religion,  but  because  he  cannot  con- 
scientiously admit  a  criterion  of  truth,  ought  not  to 
open  his  lips ;  for  whatever  he  may  utter,  will  in 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  29 

some  way  contrcadict  the  assertions,  which  he  takes 
for  granted  and  on  which  he  reasons. 

It  is  still  worse  when  reason  becomes  so  per- 
verted as  to  scoff  at  the  truth  of  religion.  Shaftes- 
bury says  :  If  any  religious  doctrine  can  be  exposed 
to  ridicule,  it  must  certainly  contain  a  falsehood. 
"Wit,  it  cannot  be  denied,  is  a  dangerous  enemy  to 
religion.  Where  it  exists,  deep  and  serious  medi- 
tation is  always  absent.  We  wish  to  reflect  on  a 
subject,  but  a  witty  thought  presents  itself  and 
renders  it  ridiculous,  then  we  are  done  with  it ;  in- 
stead of  meditating  on  it,  we  laugh  at  it.  Lucian 
wielded  all  the  weapons  of  sarcasm  and  wit  against 
the  Greek  superstition  very  skilfully,  and  many 
have  attacked  the  Christian  religion  with  similar 
weapons.  But  whilst  Lucian  succeeded,  they  have 
failed ;  the  caustic  rays  of  their  wit  have  reflected 
back  upon  themselves,  like  arrows  upon  the  breast 
of  the  archer.  The  reason  is  manifest.  True  wit 
must  always  stand  far  above  that  on  which  it  pours 
its  shafts.  Now,  he  that  would  expose  the  Chris- 
tian religion  to  ridicule,  must  stand  above  and 
beyond  divine  wisdom.  Hence  none  of  those  who 
have  attempted  to  destroy  the  confidence  of  Chris- 
tians by  ridiculing  their  doctrines,  have  succeeded. 
They  may  have  scoffed  at  their  own  notions  of 
these  doctrines,  but  the  doctrines  themselves,  the 
truth  contained  in  them,  their  wit  could  not  reach. 
Their  sarcasm  almost  universally  recoiled  upon 
themselves,   and   the   proverb   could   be   applied : 


30  THE    PRINCIPLE    OF 

He  that  laughs  last,  laughs  best.  Hobbes — to  give 
an  instance  or  two — during  the  day  ridiculed 
the  idea  that  there  is  a  God,  but  when  night  came 
he  was  so  much  afraid  of  ghosts  that  he  dared  not 
sleep  alone.  A  celebrated  physician,  who  frequent- 
ly laughed  at  the  doctrine  of  the  soul  and  its  im- 
mortality, when  lying  sick  of  the  gout,  employed  a 
conjuror  to  exorcise  the  demons  from  his  limbs. 

IV.  Finally,  let  me  show  in  a  few  words,  that 
reason,  and  faith  mutually  support  and  advance  each 
other. 

The  contents  of  faith  are,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
sin  of  man,  and,  on  the  other,  his  redemption  from 
it,  and  eternal  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ. 
That  all  men  are  fallen  and  suffer  under  the  curse 
of  hereditary  sin,  has  always  been  admitted.  It 
has  been  the  theme  of  Poetry ;  the  most  beautiful 
productions  of  human  imagination,  the  poems  of 
Dante,  of  Tetrarch,  Milton,  and  Klopstock,  are  full 
of  it.  This  being  admitted  on  all  sides,  it  is  but 
reasonable  to  believe  that  He,  who  would  redeem 
the  world  from  sin,  must  be  free  from  sin  Himself; 
that  the  pure  cannot  proceed  from  the  impure; 
and  that  Christ  consequently  must  come  from 
Heaven.  So  it  is  likewise  reasonable,  that  He,  who 
would  give  life  to  the  dead,  must  have  life  everlast- 
ing in  Himself;  that  that  life  must  be  His  by  whom 
are  created  heaven  and  earth,  the  Visible  and  Invi- 
sible, Thrones  and  Principalities  and  Powers,  by 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  ol 

whom  and  for  whom  all  is  created,  who  is  above 
all  and  in  all.  The  Saviour  of  the  world,  it  was 
reasonable  to  expect,  would  be  the  Son  of  God ;  the 
Son  of  God  alone  could  be  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 
In  short,  reason  cannot  but  acknowledge  that  when 
man  has  fallen  into  a  snare,  he  needs  one,  not 
enticed  by  its  allurements,  to  extricate  him  ;  that 
when  the  inward  monitor  sleeps,  we  need  one  who 
never  sleeps  and  will  awaken  us — who  will  help  us 
to  a  clear  idea  of  our  dangerous  situation — who  will 
show  us  how  far  inimical  powers  have  led  us  from 
the  right  path,  and  who  will  guide  us  back  to  it 
again.  When  man  no  longer  understands  himself, 
he  needs  an  interpreter  of  his  own  language. 
When  man  has  lost  God  in  his  heart,  he  needs  one 
that  visibly  represents  Him  anew.  We  need  the 
Son  of  God,  who  stands  before  us  as  a  kind  and 
loving  brother — who  by  His  Spirit  becomes  our 
guide,  by  His  holiness  our  model,  and  by  His  love  in 
life  and  in  death  the  object  of  our  supreme  affection. 
On  the  other  hand,  faith  assists  reason.  Reason 
left  to  itself  is  arrogant,  is  acted  upon  by  impure 
motives,  is  selfish  and  contracted.  Nourished  by 
the  senses  and  wholly  depraved,  it  is  inclined  to 
consider  the  sensual  world  the  only  world.  But 
by  the  Spirit  of  God  reason  is  regenerated  ;  by  faith 
its  views  are  purified  and  enlarged  and  extended 
beyond  the  grave  ;  by  faith  its  longing  for  immor- 
tality is  satisfied  and  man's  final  destination  is 
revealed  to  it.       (Plato,  the  wisest  of  ancient  phi- 


32  THE    PRINCIPLE    OF 

losophers  desired  and  longed  for  the  time,  when  one 
wiser  than  all  men  would  reveal  the  truth  fully.) 
Faith  points  out  the  only  worthy  aim  for  the  efibrts 
of  reason ;  gives  a  peace,  which  the  world  knows 
not,  and  in  which  alone  man  can  find  true  happiness 
in  life  and  consolation  in  the  hour  of  death. 

In  conclusion,  I  desire  to  make  a  few  practical 
remarks. 

1.  And  here  I  would  say  that,  as  faith  is  the  only 
true  source  of  all  virtue,  unbelief  is  the  fountain 
of  all  sin — its  seat  and  root.  Without  faith  wo 
cannot  please  God ;  without  faith  there  can  be  no 
wisdom,  nor  justice,  nor  holiness,  nor  redemption  ; 
without  faith  there  is  no  love,  no  faithfulness,  no 
courage,  no  consolation  in  our  hearts.  Without 
faith  the  will  remains  weak,  sensuality  strong,  reason 
depraved,  life  vain,  the  grave  awful.  Hence  it  is 
that  infidelity  is  the  most  terrible  word  contained 
in  our  language,  and  to  be  charged  with  it  can  be 
but  illy  brooked  by  any  one. 

But  no  one  has  faith,  except  the  believer  in 
Christ.  Who  is  a  liar,  but  he  that  denieth  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ?  for  He  is  the  true  God  and 
eternal  life  !  The  Scriptures  give  witness  of  Him 
and  contain  the  Truth ;  the  Spirit,  that  proceeds 
from  Him,  is  the  Spirit  of  Truth  ;  and  the  Church 
established  by  Him  renders  this  Truth  manifest. 
He  who  pays  no  regard  to  the  Scriptures,  to  the 
Spirit  of  Truth;  and  to  the  ordinances  of  the  Church, 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  33 

does  not  believe  ;  he  lives  without  faith  and  Truth, 
in  the  world  of  wickedness  and  falsehood. 

2.  None  can  enter  the  sphere  of  faith  by  a 
mere  resolution  of  the  will,  or  by  merely  taking  a 
proper  view  of  the  contents  of  faith.  Faith  is 
the  bloom  of  regeneration,  and  salvation  the  fruit 
of  faith.  Unless  we  are  regenerated,  we  have  no 
faith.  But  regeneration  does  not  merely  direct 
reason  to  different  objects,  or  correct  the  defects  of 
the  will;  or  mend  our  moral  life  :  it  is  a  new  prin- 
ciple in  man,  which  changes  him,  and  not  only 
something  in  him;  which  makes  him  a  new  creature, 
and  not  only  remodels  some  parts  in  him  or  revives 
some  of  his  powers.  The  regenerated  person 
knows  what  Truth  is,  because  he  is  of  the  Truth ; 
he  knows  by  whom  he  is  called,  for  the  Spirit  in 
him  will  tell  him  ;  he  knows  the  voice  of  Christ, 
because  he  listens  for  it — loves  it. 


THE  COMMUNION  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

Matt.  28  :  20. 
"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  eud  of  the  world." 

Throughout  the  sacred  Scriptures  we  can  trace  a 
deep  view  touching  the  connection  between  the  visible 
and  the  invisible  world.  Every  organization,  every 
natural  phenomenon,  is  represented  as  the  effect  of 
a  spiritual,  an  invisible  cause,  and  the  visible  world 
as  the  antitype  of  the  invisible,  which  is  the  proto- 
type. Between  these  two  worlds  there  exists  a 
constant  intercourse.  Both  atlect  each  other 
mutually.  Angels  come  down  from  heaven  and 
appear  to  men,  both  when  sleeping  and  waking; 
even  the  Lord  Himself  visited  His  holy  ones, 
Abraham,  Jacob,  Moses,  and  Paul.  Throughout 
all  a2;es  we  find  this  communication  of  Heaven  with 
earth ;  but  since  Christ,  the  centre  both  of  the 
visible  and  invisible  world,  descended  with  the 
fulness  of  revelation,  on  whom  angels  came  down 
from  heaven  and  from  whom  angels  rose  up  to 
heaven,  the  celestial  regions  have  been  open  in  a 
higher  sense,  and  will  be  open  forever,  to  the 
spiritual  eye  of  the  Christian.  He  sees  the  earth 
filled  with  the  Spirit  of  God ;  he  sees  a  stream  of 
divine  power  constantly  pervading  the  universe ; 


THE     COMMUNION     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE.      85 

and  every  truth  in  him,  every  good  motive,  comes, 
as  he  behaves,  from  the  Saviour,  without  whom  he 
does  nothinir,  without  whom  he  knows  nothinor. 
This  view  is,  indeed,  the  most  natural  and  most 
reasonable.  When  we  look  around  us  upon  the 
world,  the  mind  investigating  the  nature  of  all 
things,  ascends  from  cause  to  cause  till  finally  it 
comes  to  a  point,  beyond  which  it  cannot  go,  to  a 
cause,  which  cannot  be  traced  back  to  another, 
which  must  be  the  original  cause  of  all  causes,  the 
origin  of  all  powers,  the  fountain  of  life.  This  cause 
no  longer  belongs  to  that  which  is  visible ;  and  as 
little  as  life  can  proceed  from  death,  spirit  from 
matter,  so  little  can  it  be  comprised  within  the 
bounds  of  nature.  It  comes  from,  it  belongs  to,  the 
invisible  world.  Reasonable  as  this  view  is,  there 
have  been  those,  who  have  denied  the  existence  of 
an  invisible  world,  have  declared  it  to  be  the  pro- 
duct of  fancy  and  imagination,  maintaining  that 
all  is  matter,  and  that  besides  it  there  is  nothing. 
My  theme  to-day  will  therefore  be — 

TJie  connection  existing  hetween  the  Visible  and  In- 
visihle,  hettveen  Christ  loho  is  in  heaven  and  His 
Church  that  is  on  earth. 

In  sketching  this  theme,  I  am  well  aware  that 
the  words  of  my  text  were  originally  addressed  to 
the  teachers  of  the  Gospel ;  yet  I  have  the  authority 
of  many  commentators  in  my  favor,  when  I  give 
them  a  more  general  application. 


36  THE    COMMUNION     OF 

In  proving  that  the  visible  and  the  invisible 
world,  Christ  and  all  His  followers  on  earth,  are 
closely  connected  with  each  other,  I  shall  show 

I.  That  this  connection  does  not  exist  for  the  senses 
nor  f 07'  the  sensual  man. — All  of  us  have  heard  the 
sceptic  say,  "if  there  were  a  visible  connection  be- 
tween this  world  and  the  other,  if  spirits  could  come 
down  from  heaven  and  communicate  heavenly 
things  to  us,  we  would  believe.  We  would  believe 
in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  had  we  seen  one  of 
our  departed  friends  return,  and  bring  us  news  from 
those  dark  regions ;  we  would  believe  in  Christ  were 
He  with  us  as  He  was  with  His  disciples,  who  saw 
His  miracles,  and  heard  His  words."  The  connec- 
tion they  desire  is  evidently  one  for  the  senses,  not 
for  the  mind,  as  if  the  knowledge  we  acquire  through 
the  medium  of  the  senses,  were  more  certain  than 
that  which  the  intercourse  of  spirit  with  spirit  can 
afford  us — as  if  we  had  but  one  fountain  of  know- 
ledge, our  sensual  nature,  and  not  also  another,  an 
invisible  one,  mind,  both  of  which  deserve  at  least 
equal  credit,  since  they  give  us  equal  truth. 

But  let  us  look  away  from  this  aspect  of  the  sub- 
ject ;  let  us  ask :  Is  lohat  the  sceptic  demands  pos- 
sihle? — He  is  opposed  to  miracles,  he  questions  their 
propriety,  since  according  to  his  views  they  are  a 
violation  of  sacred  laws;  he  doubts  their  possibility. 
We  will  hold  him  to  his  own  argument,  and  ask 
further:  is  what  he  demands  possible  without  a 
miracle?  —  The    invisible    world    is    inhabited    bv 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  37 

spirits.  These  live  either  with  or  without  bodies. 
If  they  live  without  bodies,  they  cannot  become 
visible ;  for  how  can  spirits,  that  are  without  form 
and  figure,  be  seen,  when  there  are  even  some  ma- 
terial substances,  as  air  or  ether,  that  cannot  be 
perceived  by  the  eye,  in  whose  existence  we  never- 
theless firmly  believe  ?  And  as  little  as  spirits  could 
be  visible  to  the  eye,  could  their  words  be  audible 
to  the  ear,  for  to  speak  to  the  senses  they  would 
need  the  organs  of  speech.  If  it  were  asserted, 
however,  that  spirits  may  inspire  us  with  thoughts, 
which,  perhaps,  they  do,  hTfw  could  the  sceptic, 
without  a  miracle,  distinguish  those  thoughts  from 
his  own?  How  could  he  who  depends  only  on 
sensuous  truth,  know  that  the  inspired  truth  is  not 
the  product  of  his  own  mind  ? 

Suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  that  these  spirits  live 
with  bodies.  It  would  be  equally  impossible  for 
them  to  become  visible  to  our  senses  without  a 
miracle.  Their  bodies  would  subject  them  to  the 
same  law  of  gravity  that  reigns  over  us ;  this  law 
would  fasten  them  to  the  planet  on  which  they  live, 
as  it  chains  us  to  the  earth ;  and  as  we  cannot  raise 
ourselves  beyond  the  atmosphere  of  our  dwelling- 
place,  leave  it  and  enter  another,  so  they  could  not 
be  expected  to  leave  their  habitation  and  come  down, 
to  us. 

Without  a  miracle  then,  we  see,  that  what  the 
infidel  demands  would  be  impossible ;  and  if  he 
refuses  to  believe  in  miracles,  he  ought  to  scorn  a 

4 


o8  THE     COMMUNIOX     OF 

request  based  on  them.  But  let  us  admit  for  a 
moment,  that  spirits  can  appear  to  our  senses  from 
time  to  time,  even  after  Christ,  the  Son  of  God, 
has  dwelt  among  us.  The  question  will  then  arise  : 
What  means  have  our  senses  to  recognize  them  as 
heavenly  beings  ?  to  distinguish  them  from  evil 
demons,  who  have  the  power  to  assume  the  form  of 
angels  of  light,  and  whom  the  infernal  regions 
might  send  to  lead  us  astra}^,  to  delude  us  with 
empty  hopes  and  vain  expectations,  to  seduce  us. 
from  the  path  of  duty  and  truth,  and  plunge  us  into 
eternal  ruin  ?  What  means  have  our  senses  to 
ascertain,  whether  what  these  spirits  would  com- 
municate is  truth  or  falsehood  ?  Would  he,  who 
does  not  believe  Moses  and  the  Prophets,  believe 
in  such  spirits  ?  Would  he,  who  can  see  nothing 
in  Christ  but  a  man,  a  Jew  ;  he  who  hears  only 
human  words,  but  not  the  truth,  which  comes  from 
Heaven,  when  Christ  speaks  to  him;  would  he 
place  his  confidence  in  the  dead,  if  they  should 
rise  from  the  grave  ?  AVould  our  senses  be  able 
to  recognize  an  old  acquaintance  in  the  dead  risen 
from  the  grave,  or  would  there  not  be  room  for 
delusion  and  deception  ?  And  suppose  these  spirits 
should  visit  us  frequently,  would  we  not,  from 
custom  and  habit,  become  as  indifferent  to  their 
information,  as  we  now  are  to  many  sins,  into 
which  we  run,  though  we  have  often  seen  all  the 
evil  consequences  of  indulgence  ?  as  indifferent  as 
we  now  are  to  the  sight  of  ruined  health,  whilst 


THE     INJSEK     LIFE.  oU 

vice  leads  us  directly  and  certainly  to  it  ?  We  see 
the  misery,  but  do  not  shun  it.  The  robber  sees  his 
companion  executed,  but  continues  on  in  the  path 
of  transgression.  What  then  would  be  the  use  of 
such  a  sensuous  connection  between  the  visible  and 
invisible  world  ? 

Whilst  no  advantage  can  be  discovered,  did  such 
a  connection  exist,  we  may  see  the  goodness  of 
God  in  not  having  permitted  it.  For  if  it  were 
possible,  what  the  imagination  of  all  ages  has  so 
beautifully  represented,  that  the  perfect  spirits  of 
hiii'her  resfions  could  visit  our  earth  and  then  return 
as  apparitions  of  light  through  the  ether  into  their 
habitations :  what  great  confusion  would  this  magic 
coimection  cause  in  the  world  ?  Would  not  every 
sudden  flash  of  light,  every  unexpected  motion  of 
the  air,  every  shadow  in  the  dawn  of  evening, 
every  imaginary  figure  of  our  dreams  at  midnight, 
excite  our  nerves  and  fill  our  breasts  with  fear  and 
anxiety  ?  Would  not  the  desponding  look  con- 
stantly for  apparitions,  and  forget  that  their  duty 
is  to  live,  to  labor,  and  to  be  useful  ?  Would  such 
a  connection  not  retard  the  current  of  our  activity, 
transform  the  diligent  man  into  an  idle  dreamer, 
dissolve  the  ties  of  society,  and  afford  to  every 
impostor  the  means  of  deception  ?  The  supersti- 
tious belief  in  a  visible  connection  of  this  world 
with  another,  and  in  the  apparitions  of  ghosts,  has 
been  great  at  all  times ;  and  there  have  always 
been  some  who  were  ready  to  enter  into  a  league 


40  THE    COMMUNION    OF 

with  that  dark  and  mysterious  region,  to  conjure 
its  inhabitants  by  secret  arts,  and  charge  them  to 
assist  their  evil  designs,  their  desire  for  riches  and 
power.  There  have  been  others,  from  time  to  time, 
ever  since  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  who  have 
pretended  to  be  the  sons  of  God,  or  to  be  favored 
with  a  peculiar  inspiration,  and  to  bring  new  mes- 
sages from  heaven.  Considering  all  this,  we  must 
say,  it  is  well  that  no  sensuous  connection  exists 
between  the  Visible  and  the  Invisible,  between 
Christ  and  His  followers. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  I  shall  prove  in  a  few 
words,  that  the  connection  hetiveen  Christ  and  His 
children,  hetiveen  the  Visible  and  the  Invisible,  does  not 
exist  for  reason. 

Though  it  is  true,  that  we  are  surrounded  by, 
live  and  breathe  in,  the  invisible  world,  that  all 
we  can  see,  rests  in  it  as  in  its  original  ground,  that 
millions  of  spiritual  creatures  walk  the  earth,  both 
when  we  wake  and  when  we  sleep,  and  that  all 
these  creatures  and  invisible  powers  come  from 
Christ  and  bear  witness  of  Him, — yet  human  reason, 
relying  on  itself,  cannot  see  what  the  childlike 
mind  of  the  believer  clearly  comprehends.  There 
is  no  power  in  us,  that  can  give  us  any  certain 
knowledge  concerning  the  higher  regions  and  their 
inmates ;  no  effort  of  mind,  no  ecstasy  of  feeling, 
no  flight  of  imagination,  can  raise  us  into 
communion  with  the  spirits  of  Heaven.  ,  Reason  in 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  41 

its  natural  state  is  confined  to  such  truth  as  we 
may  learn  from  experience,  and  from  the  observa- 
tion of  the  natural  world ;  but  even  here  the  high- 
est degree  of  intellectual  activity,  is  not  able  to 
comprehend  even  one  half  of  the  invisible  powers 
of  nature. 

We  see  this  visible  world  undergo  constant 
changes ;  we  see  the  plants  grow,  bloom,  ripen 
their  seeds,  and  decay;  and  from  these  external 
changes  we  conclude  upon  internal  causes ;  but 
w^hat  power  is  contained  in  these  causes,  what 
power  is,  what  it  is  from, — these  questions,  though, 
they  pertain  to  the  height  of  knowledge,  we  cannot 
solve.  We  see  particles  of  matter  inclining  towards 
one  centre,  and  call  this  the  effect  of  the  law  of 
gravity  ;  we  see  all  planets  move  with  great  regu- 
larity around  their  respective  suns,  and  all  suns 
revolve  on  their  fixes ;  we  see  the  seasons  on  our 
globe,  and  weeks  and  days  and  hours,  return  in 
regular  succession :  but  that  power  which  moves 
the  starry  heavens  and  brings  ns  the  seasons,  is,  in 
the  midst  of  all  its  visible  effects,  invisible  to  reason. 
And  to  speak  of  ourselves ;  we  see  the  arm  perform 
an  action,  but  the  will,  under  whose  control  it  acts, 
the  understanding  that  plans  and  designs, — who 
has  ever  succeeded  in  tracing  them  back  to  some 
visible  cause  in  nature,  or  in  establishing  a  com- 
plete knowledge  of  their  origin  !  The  power  of 
thinking,  that,  with  the  swiftness  of  lightning, 
forces  many  ideas  under  one  general  head;    the 


42  THE     COMMUNION     OF 

conscience,  which  urges  us  to  resist  all  the  allure- 
ments of  matter,  and  to  exercise  an  unlimited  sway 
over  all  that  is  merely  sensual;  the  divine  ability, 
to  determine  all  our  actions  and  to  govern  all  our 
inclinations, — who  has  comprehended  their  con- 
nection with  the  body  ?  Who  knows  with  perfect 
certainty  their  mode  of  existence  ? 

It  is  beyond  doubt  that  reason,  though  sur- 
rounded by  the  invisible  world,  cannot  comprehend 
it ;  it  is  equally  beyond  doubt,  that  though  Christ  is 
with  every  one  of  us,  speaks  to  every  one  of  us, 
protects  every  one  of  us,  reason  does  not  see  Him, 
nor  hear  Him,  nor  perceive  Him.  And  how  can  it 
be  otherwise  ?  What  does  it  avail,  if  Christ  speaks 
to  the  sinner  by  his  conscience,  and  he  is  unwilling 
to  recognize  the  voice  of  the  Lord  ?  What  does  it 
avail,  if  the  Lord  approaches  the  sinner,  now  by  the 
admonitions  of  friends,  then  by  warnings  coming 
from  a  stranger,  if  he  is  unwilling  to  believe  that  it 
is  the  Lord  who  speaks  through  men  to  him  ?  What 
does  it  avail,  if  the  Lord,  by  the  beauties  of  nature, 
softens  the  heart  of  the  sinner  and  fills  it  with  a 
heavenly  joy,  if  he  is  unwilling  to  see  the  Lord  in 
every  brook,  in  every  torrent,  in  the  stars  of  heaven, 
and  in  all  that  is  lovely  on  earth  ?  Though  the  Lord 
chastise  men  with  misfortunes,  or  lead  them  through 
wonderful  paths  to  unexpected  happiness ;  though 
He  bless  their  labors  with  signal  success,  or  raise 
them  to  the  heights  of  fortune ; — yet  if  they  do  not 
in  all  things  seek  Him,  in  whom  they  live  and  move 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  43 

and  have  their  being,  all  will  be  in  vain.  Though 
the  Lord  be  with  them  in  His  love,  they  will  see 
nothing  but  natural  occurrences  in  all  they  meet 
with.  Even  the  Bible,  if  they  do  not  believe  that 
the  Lord  speaks  in  it,  even  the  Bible,  the  book  of 
love  and  harmony,  will  become  a  source  of  discus- 
sions and  disputations.  Let  them  listen  to  ser- 
mons, and  if  they  are  not  convinced  that  all  truth 
is  the  Lord's  and  comes  from  Him,  they  will  only 
listen  either  to  censure  or  applaud  the  speaker. 

III.  Whilst  the  words  of  Christ,  therefore  :  Lo,  I 
am  with  you  alway,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world, 
do  not  ajDply  to  sinners,  they  are  a  source  of  joy 
and  consolation  to  Christians.  Christ  is  present, 
not  visibly  to  the  bodily  e^^e,  nor  to  the  natural 
understanding,  but  He  is  with  us  through  faith 
and  in  the  Spirit. 

He  is  with  us,  when  we  perceive  an  important 
truth,  when  we  indulge  a  serious  meditation,  when 
we  give  ear  to  the  voice  of  conscience,  when  our 
feelings  are  softened,  when  we  shrink  from  sinning, 
or  when  our  hearts  glow  with  uncommon  zeal  for 
the  work  of  God.  It  is  the  Lord  that  speaks  to  us 
through  a  book,  that  edifies  us  through  a  friend, 
that  gives  us  advice  through  the  word  of  a  stranger, 
that  attracts  our  attention  and  influences  the  cur- 
rent of  our  thoughts  through  the  innocence  of  a 
child,  whose  simplicity  puts  our  wisdom  to  confu- 
sion, whose  cheerfulness  beguiles  us  of  our  melan- 


44  THE     COMMUNION     OF 

choly,  and  whose  peace  and  tranquillity  unlock  to 
us  the  paradise  of  those  that  believe  and  do  not 
doubt.  The  Lord  approaches  our  hearts  by  wants 
and  by  blessings,  by  days  of  joy  and  by  nights  of 
sorrow,  by  meetings  and  by  separations,  by  the 
small  occurrences  of  the  family,  and  by  the  fate  of 
nations.  Whithersoever  we  go,  there  the  Lord  is, 
and  we  cannot  be  without  Him.  We  see  Him  in 
the  constitution  of  our  government,  in  the  spirit 
of  our  laws,  in  the  morals  of  society,  in  the  institu- 
tions of  learning,  in  all  the  views,  principles,  and 
sacred  undertakings  of  our  age.  As  we  are  sur- 
rounded by  the  air  of  heaven,  so  are  believers  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  visibly  and  invisibly  by  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord.  No  journey  is  necessary  to  be 
with  Him,  no  money  to  be  admitted  into  His  pre- 
sence, no  splendid  dress  to  walk  by  His  side : 
wherever  we  may  be,  if  we  have  eyes  to  perceive 
Him,  and  ears  to  hear  Him,  a  heart  to  love  Him, 
and  a  desire  to  meet  Him,  there  He  is  with  us. 
Every  act  of  devotion  in  the  temple  of  God,  every 
feelino;  of  deli2;ht  that  trembles  in  the  bosom  at  His 
holy  altar,  every  ray  of  light  that  sinks  from  the 
Bible  into  the  heart,  every  sermon  that  entreats  us 
to  repent  and  accept  of  the  salvation  offered  by 
Christ;  whatever  speaks  to  us  in  nature — sunset 
and  sunrise,  spring  by  its  new  creations,  summer 
by  its  sheaves,  autumn  by  its  ripened  fruits,  and 
winter  by  its  tranquillity  and  repose — all  tell  us, 
that  the  Lord  is  near  us.     What  is  all  the  know- 


THE     INNER    LIFE.  45 

ledge  of  the  earth,  all  the  wisdom  of  reason,  com- 
pared with  the  conviction,  that  the  Lord  is  with  us ! 

He  is  with  us  in  our  toants  and  in  our  need.  We 
are  better  than  the  fowls  of  the  air  or  the  flowers  of 
the  field  ;  we  need  more  than  meat  and  drink ;  we 
have  wants  which  neither  nature  nor  reason  can 
satisfy ;  hence  the  Lord  came  down  from  His 
heavenly  glory  and  became  a  servant  and  died  for 
us,  in  order  that  we  might  see  in  His  light,  fight 
against  sin  in  His  strength,  rest  in  His  peace,  be 
purified  by  His  blood,  and  be  happy  forever  in  the 
mansions  which  He  has  prepared  for  us.  He  that 
is  with  us  in  all  need,  knows  and  will  give  us  also 
what  best  corresponds  with  our  disposition,  what 
will  most  powerfully  awaken  us,  what  will  give  us 
the  fullest  satisfaction,  what  will  most  securely  save 
us,  and  what  will  most  effectually  try  our  faith  and 
sanctify  our  hearts.  Whether  we  need  encourage- 
ment or  humiliation,  consolation  or  chastisement, 
wounds  or  balm,  long  life  or  an  early  death  ;  whether 
He  must  approach  us  gently,  lest  He  should  break 
the  tender  reed  or  quench  the  smoking  fiax,  or 
must  smite  our  rocky  hearts  with  a  rod  that  the 
fountain  of  living  water  may  spring  up  :  all  is  known 
to  Him  who  is  with  us  and  does  all  for  us. 

Again  :  The  Lord  is  with  us  in  all  ice  do  or  ander- 
talce.  He  perceives  clearly  the  relations  in  which 
we  live  and  the  manner  in  which  we  use  them. 
To  Him  the  agreement  of  our  will  with  His  is  mani- 
fest, as  well  as  our  opposition  to  it.     Before  we 


46  THE     COMMUNION     Of 

open  the  mouth  He  knows  what  we  will  speak ; 
before  we  have  determined  upon  an  action  He 
is  acquainted  with  what  we  will  do.  No  delu- 
sion, no  hypocrisy  deceives  Him :  as  fire  tries 
silver,  and  the  furnace  gold,  so  He  distinguishes 
pure  from  selfish  motives — truth  from  hypocrisy. 
Whether  we  sit  in  the  shade  of  a  fig-tree  pray- 
ing, like  Nathaniel,  or  at  the  receipt  of  custom, 
like  the  son  of  Alpheus,  or  on  the  shore  of  the 
sea  casting  nets,  like  the  brothers  of  Bethsaida ; 
whether  we  are  engaged  in  devotion  at  the  grave 
of  a  departed  friend,  or  dissipate  our  hours  at  the 
table  of  mirth ;  He  sees  us.  He  knows  us.  He  tries 
us,  for  He  is  with  us.  The  darkest  recess  of  charac- 
ter, the  most  concealed  fold  of  our  being,  the  softest 
emotion  of  the  heart,  lies  open  before  Him,  and  He 
will  judge  all  of  them.  His  holy  eye  rests  on  every- 
one of  us,  and  He  will  aid  us  according  to  our 
circumstances.  When  we  are  about  to  forget  our 
dut}^  He  will  remind  us  of  it  by  conscience ;  when 
the  paths  of  inclination  and  duty  cross  each  other, 
He  will  show  us  the  right  one  ;  when  times  of  tribu- 
lation come  upon  us.  He  will  give  us  wisdom,  per- 
severance, and  patience  ;  when  we  desire  to  be  freed 
from  the  dominion  of  sin.  He  will  take  our  guilt 
upon  Himself  He  who  came  into  the  world  to 
save  sinners,  will  never  leave  them  nor  forsake 
them. 

If  this  conviction,  that  the  Lord  is  with  us  in  all 
our  wants,  in  our  business  and  occupations,  is  full 


THE     INNKR     LIFE.  47 

of  consolation,  it  ought  likewise  to  inspire  us  with 
confidence. 

Let  us  therefore  confide  in  Him  without  reserve. 
He  knows  what  dignity  has  been  bestowed  upon 
His  followers  :  will  He  not  enable  them  to  preserve 
it  ?  He  knows  the  way  that  leads  to  Heaven  :  will 
He  not  guide  our  feet  and  keep  us  from  falling  ?  He 
knows  how  sin  cleaves  to  us  and  renders  us  negli- 
gent of  His  work  :  will  He  expect  more  of  us  than 
we  can  perform  ?  When  we  suffer  from  within  and 
from  without,  let  us  trust  in  Him  ;  He  will  give 
us  counsel,  assistance,  and  consolation.  The  num- 
ber of  our  dajs  is  in  His  hands,  the  limit  of  our  life 
was  written  in  His  book  before  we  had  seen  the 
light  of  this  world ;  and  if  we  call  on  Him  in  the 
hour  of  death.  He  will  support  us  and  lead  us 
through  that  way,  where  no  mortal  arm  can  any 
longer  assist  us;  He  will  lead  us  through  the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death  to  the  regions  of  eternal  life 
and  glory.  Let  us  confide  in  Him,  though  our 
actions  be  imperfect  and  though  we  be  misunder- 
stood by  the  world.  He  knows  us  :  our  disposition, 
our  zeal,  our  motives,  our  real  worth,  our  courage, 
our  perseverance  in  His  cause  and  our  anxiety  to 
accomplish  what  circumstances  may  render  impos- 
sible, are  acknowledged  by  Him  even  though  con- 
cealed by  a  thick  veil  from  the  eye  of  man.  Let 
us  confide  in  Him,  though  we  be  misrepresented 
and  suspected  by  men.  Let  us  be  cheerful  and  pre- 
serve our  peace  of  mind,  when  the  world  is  at  war 


48  THE     COMMUNION,     ETC. 

with  us,  for  He  that  is  with  us,  will  not  forsake  His 
holy  ones;  He  will  not  give  those  up  to  the  power 
of  the  enemy  and  of  sin,  whom  He  has  chosen  and 
set  apart  from  the  world. 

If  we  do  thus  confide  in  Him,  with  what  joy, 
with  what  hope,  may  we  look  for  the  day  when  He 
shall  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  !  Will  not  He 
whom  we  confess  before  the  world,  confess  us  also  be- 
fore His  Heavenly  Father?  Will  He  not  recognize 
His  own  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  and  gather  them 
to  Himself?  Will  He  forget  His  word,  so  rich  in 
peace:  "Father,  I  will  that  they  also,  whom  thou 
hast  given  me,  be  with  me  where  I  am ;  that  they  be- 
hold My  glory,  which  thou  hast  given  Me  !"  Men 
may  err  and  be  deceived ;  if  we  confide  in  them  our 
fate  is  dubious,  our  safety  uncertain :  but  in  His 
hands  our  salvation  is  sure,  for  He  never  changes 
and  never  errs. 

Therefore  trust  in  the  Lord,  for  He  takes  pleasure 
in  those  that  iear  Him,  and  hope  in  His  mercy. 


THE  NURTURE  OF  THE  INNER  LUE. 

Col.  3  :  15-17. 

"  And  let  the  peace  of  God  rule  in  your  hearts,  to  the  which  also 
ye  are  called  in  one  body  ;  and  he  ye  thankful.  Let  the  word  of  Christ 
dwell  in  you  richly  in  all  wisdom  ;  teaching  and  admonishing  one 
another  in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  singing  with  grace  in 
your  hearts  to  the  Lord.  And  whatsoever  ye  do  in  word  or  deed,  do 
all  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  giving  thanks  to  God  and  the  Father 
by  him." 

Lord,  our  Pleavenly  Father  !  Thou  hast  created 
all  things  that  are,  and  Thou  art  the  Benefactor  and 
Preserver  of  our  race.  Our  highest  happiness  is 
to  know  Thee,  to  love  Thee,  to  obey  Thee.  This 
alone  raises  us  above  the  brute  ;  this  alone  spreads 
light  and  joy  around  us.  Knowing  Thee,  we  know 
the  source  of  all  that  is  good,  and  true,  and  noble. 
Loving  Thee,  we  love  the  fountain  of  all  that  is 
worthy  of  our  affection  and  deserving  of  our  regard. 
Obeying  Thee,  we  ennoble  our  will  and  character, 
and  receive  the  best  and  wisest  of  all  into  our  hearts. 
Grant  therefore,  0  Lord,  that  we  may  know,  and 
love,  and  obey  Thee. 

Our  time,  0  Lord !  is  short,  but  the  end  of  nil 


50  THE     NURTURE     OF 

our  endeavors,  and  the  destination  of  our  existence 
is  to  know  Thee  and  Jesus  Christ,  the  Saviour, 
whom  Thou  hast  sent.  We  Hve  here  in  a  state  of 
pro])ation.  It  is  Thy  will,  that  in  this  state  we 
make  the  wisest  use  of  all  our  faculties  and  gifts  ; 
that  we  cultivate  and  employ  them  in  a  manner 
which  will  result  in  our  own  welfare  and  in  the 
welfare  of  our  fellow- men.  Thou  hast  connected  us 
in  different  ways  with  each  other,  and  commanded 
us  to  live  for  each  other,  and  to  take  a  mutual  inte- 
rest in  each  other's  temporal  and  eternal  happiness. 
This  duty  Thou  hast  especially  imposed  upon 
parents  and  children,  teachers  and  pupils.  We 
have  set  this  day  apart,  to  remember  this  duty,  and 
have  come  together  to  pray,  that  Thy  Sj)irit  may 
rest  on  all  the  Literary  Institutions  of  our  country. 
May  Thy  AVord  dwell  richly  in  them,  and  may 
whatever  they  do  in  word  or  deed,  be  done  in  the 
name  of  Jesus.  May  teachers  and  scholars  be  of 
one  mind.  May  all  desire  the  spread  of  genuine 
piety.  May  they  teach  and  admonish  each  other 
in  psalms,  and  hymns,  and  spiritual  songs — singing 
with  grace  in  their  hearts.  Grant,  0  Lord  !  that 
our  Literary  Institutions  may  be  the  nurseries  of 
godliness,  and  that  the  youth  intrusted  to  them 
may  be  trained  in  the  ways  of  holiness. 

May  Thy  blessing  especially  rest  on  the  Institu- 
tion with  which  we  are  connected.  Bless  teachers 
and  scholars  ;  visit  them  with  Thy  reviving 
Spirit;  and  may  all,  going  forth  from  it,  take  with 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  51 

them  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  under-- 
standing. 

There  are  four  great  institutions  that  are  in- 
tended for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ ;  the 
Family,  the  Government,  the  Church,  and  the 
School.  At  all  times,  and  in  all  ages,  the  Govern- 
ment has  rested  on  the  Family  ;  the  character  of  the 
latter  has  been  that  of  the  former.  The  degree  of 
liberty  enjoyed  in  the  family,  was  also  enjoyed  by 
every  citizen.  If  the  family  spirit  of  a  nation  was 
despotic,  despotism  was  the  form  of  the  Government. 
So  closely  are  families  and  the  whole  Government 
connected,  that  as  every  individual  constitutes  an 
integral  part  of  the  family  to  which  he  belongs,  so 
are  all  families  members  of  one  great  Family,  the 
nation.  This  connection  between  these  two  insti- 
tutions, which  have  at  all  times  been  considered  of 
divine  origin,  is  generally  acknowledged ;  but  less 
so,  on  the  one  hand,  the  relation  of  the  School  and 
the  Church  to  each  other,  and,  on  the  other,  the 
intluence  of  both  upon  the  state  of  civil  society. 
Some  think,  that  education,  independent  of  reli- 
gion, and  consequently  of  the  Christian  Church, 
would  be  sufficient  to  uphold  order  and  civil  liberty; 
others  place  all  their  confidence  in  the  prudence 
and  wisdom  of  Lawgivers,  and  deem  even  the  most 
common  education  unnecessary.  Christians  thought 
diflerently  on  this  subject  even  in  the  earliest  periods 
of  Christianitv.    As  the  Saviour  had  not  overlooked 


52  THE    NURTURE    OF 

children,  but  had  said  :  "  Suffer  little  children  to 
come  unto  me  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven ;"  so  the  first  Christians 
very  soon  thought  of  training  the  youth  ;  and  esta- 
blished schools,  whose  object  it  was  to  instruct  them 
in  eternal  truth.  In  early  times,  already,  there 
was  a  school  at  Alexandria,  in  which  teachers  were 
educated  for  common  schools.  Thus,  we  perceive 
the  great  care  which  was  bestowed  upon  the  Chris- 
tian Education  of  youth.  And  this  same  care  has 
exhibited  itself,  whenever,  after  a  state  of  slumber, 
the  Church  has  again  awoke  to  a  due  sense  of  her 
obligations.  The  Reformers,  especially  Martin 
Luther,  turned  the  attention  of  the  people  to  the 
then  deplorable  state  of  the  schools,  wrote  Cate- 
chisms for  them,  visited  them,  and  insisted  on 
having  the  Bible,  Catechism,  and  Hymnbook  well 
studied,  portions  of  them  learned  by  heart,  and 
others  explained.  In  Germany,  the  subjects  of  in- 
struction, and  the  order  in  which  they  are  taken 
up,  are  regulated,  even  now,  by  the  plan  adopted 
at  the  time  of  the  Reformation.  The  school  com- 
mences with  singing  a  hymn ;  then  prayers  are 
offered  by  some  of  the  scholars ;  then  some  chap- 
ters are  read  from  the  Bible,  and  afterwards  ex- 
plained, and  such  passages  marked  as  the  teacher 
desires  the  scholars  to  commit  to  memory  ;  then  the 
portion  of  the  Catechism  pointed  out  for  the  day  is 
recited,  and,  after  these  religious  exercises  have  been 
attended    to,    arithmetic,  geography,   and    history 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  53 

come  in  their  regular  turn.  The  object  of  all  in- 
struction was  and  is,  with  them,  to  train  up  the 
youth  to  be  pious  and  godly,  honoring  their  Creator, 
preserving  virtue  and  righteousness  in  their  lives. 

And  what  is  more  natural,  than  that  in  every- 
thing which  is  great,  we  should  turn  our  attention 
directly  to  the  youth,  the  tender  object  of  our  love 
and  care  ?  There  is  an  infallible  criterion,  by  which 
we  may  distinguish  the  noble  and  good  from  the 
merely  great,  or  from  that  which  historically  and  in 
the  eye  of  the  world,  makes  an  epoch.  This  criterion 
is  the  following.  Those  who,  filled  with  the  spirit 
of  something  good,  desire  its  preservation,  are  at 
all  times  the  friends  of  youth,  and  place  their  hopes 
and  wishes  upon  them.  But  the  heroes  of  worldly 
history  are  satisfied  with  the  co-operation  of  their 
contemporaries.  The  revival  of  internal  life  needs 
the  youth  as  its  soil ;  revolutions  and  other  heroic 
actions  can  do  without  it. 

This  has  been  felt  too,  in  its  full  extent,  by  all  the 
good  and  noble  citizens  of  our  country.  They  have 
unanimously  agreed  on  setting  this  day  apart,  to 
pray  for  revivals  of  religion  in  colleges,  and  in 
doing  this  they  deserve  our  highest  regard.  For 
if  common  schools  have  at  all  times  been  the  ob- 
jects of  Christian  solicitude,  how  much  more  ought 
those  institutions  to  claim  the  prayers  of  all  the 
pious,  that  must  furnish  the  community  with  its  phy- 
sicians and  lawyers,  with  its  teachers  and  ministers, 
and  with  the  heirs  of  all  its  knowledge  and  wisdom  ? 


54  THE     NURTURE     OF 

I  invite  your  attention  to-day  to  a  few  remarks, 
Avliich  I  shall  make  on  the  words  we  find  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Colossians,  in  the  3d  chapter,  from  the 
15th  to  the  17th  verses. 

"And  let  the  peace  of  Gofl  rule  in  your  hearts,  to  the  which  also  ye  are 
called  in  one  body  ;  and  be  ye  thankful.  Let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell 
in  you  richly  in  all  wisdom  ;  teaching  and  admonishing  one  another  in 
psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  singing  with  grace  in  your 
hearts  to  the  Lord.  And  whatsoever  ye  do  in  word  or  deed,  do  all  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  giving  thanks  to  God  and  the  Father  by 
Him." 

Though  these  words  were  originally  addressed  to 
Christians  in  their  relation  to  each  other,  they 
apply  equally  well  to  Christians  in  their  relation  to 
the  3^outh  committed  to  their  care ;  and  in  the  latter 
respect  only  I  shall  make  them  the  subject  of  a 
short  lecture. 

I.  The  purpose  which  a  school  may  have  imme- 
diately in  view,  and  by  which  it  may  distinguish 
itself  from  other  schools,  may  be  a  very  specific 
one,  and  subservient  to  some  end  in  common  life. 
There  are  many  wants,  and  many  occupations  to 
meet  these  wants ;  there  are  many  gifts  and  talents 
that  qualify  different  persons  for  different  employ- 
ments. These  different  talents  and  inclinations 
ought  all  of  them  to  be  cultivated,  and  particular 
schools  ought  to  be  adapted  to  these  specific  ends. 
But  no  schools  have  any  permanent  value,  unless 
while  each  differs  from  the  other  by  its  specific 
object,  all  live  in  one  spirit;  and  unless  all  these 
specific  objects  are  subordinate  to  one  great  end,  to 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  55 

that  of  introducing  the  peace  of  God  into  the  hearts 
of  our  youth.  What  is  human  knowledge  worth 
without  the  peace  of  God !  What  is  the  possession 
of  all  wisdom  and  of  all  the  riches  of  the  earth 
worth  without  salvation  after  death  ?  This  then  is 
the  great  end  of  all  schools,  and  of  colleges  espe- 
cially, that  we  lead  our  youth  to  the  source  from 
which  the  peace  of  God  flows  richly  and  purely  ; 
that  we  teach  them  and  entreat  them  to  receive 
this  peace  into  their  hearts,  and  have  it  reign  in 
them.  In  this  aim  all  schools  ought  to  be  united  ; 
as  a  single  and  invisible  thread  unites  a  great  num- 
ber of  beautiful  and  variegated  flowers  into  one  gar- 
land, so  this  spirit  of  the  peace  of  God  and  this 
common  end  ought  so  to  unite  institutions  of  learn- 
ing, that  while  many  as  to  number  and  purposes, 
they  nevertheless  may  be  one  as  to  spirit  and  final 
end. 

From  this  view  it  follows,  that  a  school,  which 
has  only  the  acquisition  of  bread,  the  future  sup- 
port of  its  scholars,  in  view,  is  wholly  unworthy  of 
the  patronage  of  Christians,  and  unworthy  of  a  noble 
and  free  community.  There  are  schools  even  in 
Christian  communities,  that  teach  many  things ; 
that  teach  us  how  to  converse  with  our  fellow-men, 
how  to  carry  on  our  business,  how  to  treat  those 
with  whom  we  have  intercourse,  and  how  to  turn 
every  production  of  the  earth  to  our  advantage. 
In  such  schools  many  books  are  read  and  become 
endeared  to  the  scholars ;  but  while  all  are  read. 


56  THE     NURTURE     OF 

one  only  is  excluded, — the  Bible.  It  is  not  read,  not 
quoted,  not  even  alluded  to.  All  instruction  must 
of  course  be  in  accordance  with  this  principle. 
While  ever3'thing  in  space  and  in  time  is  spoken 
of,  that  which  is  beyond  space  and  time,  eternity, 
is  never  thought  of.  Faith,  faith  in  a  Saviour;  holi- 
ness, sanctification,  repentance,  and  salvation,  are 
words  never  heard.  The  omission  of  such  topics  in  a 
school  is  heathenish,  and  must  be  deprecated.  Our 
great  and  principal  aim  must  always  be  the  one 
mentioned  :  that  we  may  introduce  the  peace  of 
God  into  the  hearts  of  our  youth. 

II.  But  how  shall  we  lead  those  to  the  Source  of 
peace,  who  by  nature  are  the  enemies  of  God  ? 
Peace  and  ivar  cannot  be  united  ;  the  one  excludes 
the  other.  It  is  in  vain  for  man  to  say  to  the 
ra2;ino:  storm,  Be  silent !  or  to  the  aGfitated  wave  of 
the  ocean.  Sink  and  be  smooth  !  or  to  the  passions  of 
man.  Be  composed  ! — While  there  is  no  power  left 
to  man,  by  which  to  cause  the  peace  of  God  to  de- 
scend upon  him  and  bless  him,  the  Apostle  never- 
theless admonishes  us  to  be  thankful  ;  for 

1.  We  have  a  Prince  of  peace,  by  whose  power 
and  love,  by  whose  death  and  resurrection,  peace 
between  God  and  man,  is  restored — hy  whose  mere 
word  the  power  of  demons  is  banished  from  our 
hearts,  and  the  love  of  God  takes  possession  of 
them.  Hence  let  us  be  thankful ;  and  let  whatever 
we  do  or  say,  be  done  and  said  in  the  name  of 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  57 

Christ ;  let  His  name  be  often  pronounced  in  the 
ears  of  our  youth  ;  let  it  be  urged  upon  them  as  the 
only  one  in  which  there  is  salvation  in  heaven,  and 
peace  for  a  disturbed  and  terrified  conscience. 

2.  But  let  us  be  thankful  for  another  reason, 
closely  connected  with  the  above.  Let  us  be  thank- 
ful for  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  which,  after  it  gave 
us  a  Saviour,  the  Gospel,  and  the  Church,  likewise 
instituted  schools,  and  thus  made  it  possible  to  pro- 
nounce the  name  of  the  Saviour  daily  in  the  hearing 
of  those  whose  consciences  have  not  yet  become 
callous.  There  were  indeed  schools  before  the  in- 
troduction of  the  Christian  religion,  but  they  were 
either  of  an  elementary  character,  or  had  a  parti- 
cular rank  of  citizens  in  view,  or  were  a  private 
undertaking  of  doubtful  existence.  The  ancient 
Hebrew  has  even  no  name  for  schools  of  children, 
and  much  less  can  it  have  had  the  thing  itself. 
There  were  schools  for  prophets,  and  Rabbins, 
as  among  the  Jews ;  schools  for  priests,  as  among 
the  Egyptians  and  Indians  ;  schools  for  kings,  as 
among  the  Persians;  schools  for  philosophers,  as 
among  the  Greeks;  schools  for  orators,  as  among 
the  Romans.  But  Christianity  has  brought  about  a 
change.  Not  only  certain  gifts  and  talents  are  con- 
sidered worthy  of  the  care  and  attention  of  Chris- 
tians, but  all  without  any  exceptions.  Every  talent 
and  qualification  is  the  gift  of  God,  and,  as  such, 
must  be  drawn  out  and  cultivated.  Hence  as  dif- 
ferent as  these  talents  are,  as  different   become  the 


58  THE     NURTURE     OF 

forms  of  schools  ;  and  whatever  the  employment  is 
to  which  any  one  happens  to  be  inclined,  there  is 
a  school  he  may  enter,  calculated  to  prepare  him 
for  it.  There  are  the  schools  for  infants,  in  which 
the  tender  lips  of  our  race  are  already  taught  to  pro- 
nounce the  name  of  the  Saviour,  to  pray  and  to  sing. 
There  are  afterwards  the  schools  for  languages,  arts, 
economy,  mercantile  schools,  militar}"  schools,  up 
to  gymnasiums,  lyceums,  colleges,  universities,  and 
academies  of  science.  Who,  casting  a  glance  upon 
this  well-organized  system  of  schools,  proceeding 
from  a  Christian  regard  for  every  talent  of  man  and 
every  employment  in  life,  would  not  feel  thankful, 
especially  when  he  may  believe,  that  in  all  these 
schools,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  the  person 
of  Christ  is  taught  as  the  source  of  the  peace  of 
God,  which  passeth  all  understanding? 

3.  Colleges  ought  to  be  thankful  for  the  supe- 
rior advantages  they  enjoy  in  disciplining  the  facul- 
ties of  the  mind,  in  cultivating  the  heart,  in  forming 
the  character,  and  in  refining  the  taste.  It  is  with 
thoughts,  as  with  many  other  things,  that  are  not 
matured  and  do  not  become  perfect  until  they  have 
passed  through  a  great  many  hands.  Thoughts 
and  sciences  do  not  ripen  in  the  same  mind  or 
nation,  in  which  they  first  originated,  but  require 
time  and  many  different  efforts  to  be  drawn  out  and 
to  be  brought  to  maturity.  The  ancients  could  not 
base  their  literature  and  knowledge  as  we  do,  upon 
past  experience;  the  Greeks  had  no  Oriental  poetry 


THE    INNER     LIFE.  51) 

nor  philosophy,  no  Oriental  works  on  natural 
science,  Avhich  they  could  use  as  models,  and  which 
they  had  only  to  render  more  perfect.  We,  on  the 
other  hand,  see  the  inexhaustible  riches  of  the 
Greek  genius  spread  before  us  in  the  most  beautiful 
form;  we  may  only  sit  down  at  the  table,  laden  so 
plentifully,  and  enjoy  ourselves.  Should  we  not 
be  thankful  that  Divine  Providence  has  preserved 
to  us  a  Homer  and  Plato,  a  Xenophon,  aThucydides 
and  Plutarch,  an  Aristotle  and  Tacitus?  Every 
word  these  men  spoke  was  given  in  its  most  clas- 
sical form,  and  not  written  for  the  day,  but  for  an 
eternit^^  Reading  them  in  the  proper  spirit,  we 
may  learn  how  to  communicate  golden  fruits  in 
silver  capsules,  and  thus  accustom  ourselves  to  cor- 
rect and  beautiful  thinking.  Yet  in  being  thank- 
ful for  these  books  and  advantages,  we  must  not  for- 
get that  they  are  only  valuable,  when  the  light  of 
llie  Book  is  shed  upon  them;  when,  while  admiring 
their  beauties,  we  are  at  the  same  time  enabled  by 
it  to  preserve  ourselves  free  from  their  errors  and 
superstition. 

HI.  When  thus  we  lead  our  youth  to  the  peace  of 
God,  and  give  the  Bible  a  place  above  all  other 
books;  when  we  invite  Christ  to  reside  among  us, 
and  when  He  speaks  by  the  lips  of  the  teachers  and 
opens  the  hearts  and  ears  oT  the  scholars,  then  we 
shall  be  united  "in  one  body,"  as  our  text  says. 
Then  there  will  be  no  ambition  on  the  part  of  teach- 


60  THE     NURTURE     OF 

ers,  no  envy  and  jealousy  among  scholars;  then  none 
will  desire  to  communicate  his  own  views,  but  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Christ ;  none  will  insist  on  his  own 
narrow  and  contracted  ideas,  but  every  one  will  be 
willing  to  receive  instruction  as  well  as  to  give  it. 
For  the  spirit  of  love  will  animate  all,  scholars  and 
teachers;  they  will  live  together  like  brethren;  they 
will  cherish  each  other,  and  be  mild  and  forgiving; 
they  will  aid  and  assist  each  other  in  everything, 
but  especially  in  the  attainment  of  salvation;  they 
will  be  of  one  mind  and  one  spirit ;  they  will  be 
united  in  one  body. 

IV.  But  our  text  says:  "Let  the  word  of  Christ 
dwell  in  you  richly  in  all  wisdom."  Here  let  us 
mark  the  little  word  all.  No  science  is  to  be  ex- 
cluded from  the  Word  of  God  ;  no  science  is  unfit  to 
receive  it,  as  no  sinner  is  so  great  that  he  can  not 
be  blessed  by  it.  Every  science  then  may  become 
its  vessel;  every  one  may  be  penetrated  by  it. 
Whether  it  is  Homer  we  read,  or  Pindar;  whether 
we  study  history,  and  its  convincing  evidences  of  a 
divine  plan  and  providence,  or  the  science  of  nature, 
which  exhibits  the  Divine  Will  in  every  law;  every- 
where, Paul  says,  let  the  Divine  Word  dwell  richly. 
But  where  it  dwells,  there  the  spirit  of  love  must 
reign,  and  that  of  denunciation  must  flee.  Not 
then  does  the  Divine  Word  dwell  in  worldly  wis- 
dom, when  we  denounce  it,  when  we  abuse  and 
condemn  it;  how  could  it  dwell  in  that  which  we 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  61 

try  to  destroy?  but  when  we  raise  the  worldly 
science  by  the  spirit  of  Christ;  when  we  free  it  from 
its  worldly  tendency,  and  connect  it  with  the  things 
of  eternity.  For  every  science  has  a  truth,  and 
every  real  truth  must  be  capable  of  entering  the 
eternal  truth. 

From  this  passage  of  our  text  we  may  remark  : 

1.  That  Paul  does  not  favor  the  notion  of  those 
that  think  it  sufficient  to  have  separate  hours  for 
religious  exercises,  for  the  reading  and  the  explain- 
ing of  the  Gospel,  but  he  insists  on  having  the  Word 
of  Christ  dwell  richly  in  all  our  wisdom.  As  the 
Spirit  of  God  wrought  in  the  prophets,  and  breathed 
in  the  harp  of  David,  as  it  built  the  temple  of  Solo- 
mon and  spake  judgment  by  the  mouth  of  Debora, 
so  the  book  of  Christ  is  to  reign  with  its  spirit  and 
truth  in  every  human  book,  so  the  Spirit  of  God  is 
to  breathe  life  and  energy  into  all  our  wisdom,  and 
thus  connect  everywhere  the  earthly  and  the  hea- 
venly, sanctifying  the  former  by  the  latter. 

2.  We  remark  that  in  reading  the  classics,  those 
works  of  varied  talents  and  deep,  untiring  study, 
we  ought  not  to  do  as  those  who  consider  them  the 
only  oracles  of  truth,  and  recommend  every  word 
and  sentiment,  just  because  Pliny  or  Cicero  uttered 
them.  Such  views  wrong  the  Book  of  all  books, 
and  misunderstand  its  value,  which  is  as  much 
greater  than  that  of  every  other,  as  the  wisdom  of 
God  is  higher  than  that  of  man.  Hov/ever  we  may 
admire  the  wisdom  of  a  Plato  or  of  an  Aristotle,  we 


62  THE     NURTURE     OF 

will  feel  it  on  every  page  we  read,  that  they  sought  in- 
deed perseveringly,  but  in  vain,  for  that  truth  which 
is  now  accessible  even  to  the  understanding  of 
children.  Hence  we  ought  to  cause  the  light  of  the 
Gospel  to  fall  upon  them. 

3.  Neither  ought  we  in  reading  the  classics  to  fol- 
low those,  who  treat  these  great  and  noble  works, 
these  models  of  pure  style  and  correct  thinking, 
these  unequalled  specimens  of  oratory,  poetry,  his- 
tory, and  philosophy — as  if  they  were  the  works  of 
schoolboys ;  who  seem  to  read  them  only  for  the 
purpose  of  exhibiting  their  own  superior  wisdom,  of 
showing  how  much  wiser  they  are  than  the  authors, 
which  they  explain.  It  is  always  easy  to  sit  in 
judgment  on  a  work  and  condemn  it,  and  to  do  so 
is  gratifying  to  man ;  for  he  would  rather  annihilate 
what  goes  beyond  his  own  capacity,  than  acknow- 
ledge its  superiority ;  it  is  more  difficult  to  under- 
stand a  superior  work ;  and  it  is  the  most  difficult 
of  all  to  write  one  that  is  equal  to  it  or  better. 
When  therefore  a  Christian,  with  the  Bible  in  his 
hand,  guided  by  revelation,  which  is  given  him 
without  his  merit ;  when  a  Christian  thus  furnished 
with  means,  scorns  the  works  of  noble  heathen, 
ridicules  or  condemns  them,  it  is  as  absurd,  as  if  a 
full-grown  man,  well  acquainted  by  long  use  with 
a  machine,  laughs  at  another,  because  he  cannot 
find  the  invisible  spring,  so  well  known  to  him, 
which  when  touched  sets  the  whole  work  in  motion. 
What  can  be  more  ridiculous  than  that  a  serious 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  b6 

man  should  quarrel  with  Plato,  because  he  is  not  a 
Christian  ?  The  works  of  Greece  stand  unparalleled 
until  now ;  no  modern  nation  has  a  Demosthenes, 
or  a  Homer,  a  Sophocles  or  a  Pindar,  as  regards 
beauty  of  expression  and  style,  or  richness  and 
energy  of  thought.  If  we  have  not  been  able  to 
reach  their  high  position  in  these  respects,  it  illy 
becomes  us  to  treat  them  as  if  they  were  far  below 
us,  while  we  are  perhaps  not  able  to  understand 
them  fully,  much  less  to  write  as  they  did. 

Let  us  therefore  neither  overvalue  nor  under- 
value them,  but  read  them  with  the  Gospel  in  our 
hands,  and  suffer  the  light  of  the  latter  to  fall  upon 
the  dark  portions  of  those  ancient  writers.  Then 
we  will  acknowledge  the  good  in  them,  and  learn 
from  them;  and  like  the  bee,  that  instinctively 
finds  its  suitable  nourishment,  we  shall  be  able  to 
appropriate  all  wisdom,  thus  sanctified  by  the 
Divine  Word,  richly  dwelling  in  it,  and  to  exclude 
whatever  is  erroneous. 

V.  And  ivhat  will  be  the  fruits  of  learned  schools, 
that  thus  have  the  Word  of  Christ  dwelling  in  them 
richly  in  all  wisdom  ? 

The  text  contains  the  answer.  Those  educated 
in  them,  "  will  teach  and  admonish  one  another  in 
psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  singing 
wdth  grace  in  their  hearts.  And  whatsoever  they 
do  in  word  or  deed,  they  will  do  all  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  !" 


64  THE    NU'KTUKE     OF 

They  will  then,  in  the  first  place,  teach  and 
admonish  each  other ;  they  will  become  their  own 
leaders  ;  they  will  continue,  what  they  have  begun, 
and  enter  the  Church  of  Christ,  either  as  ministers 
or  as  useful  lay-members.  Their  minds  will  grow 
strong,  and  their  knowledge  be  solid ;  for  their 
studies  will  be  carried  on  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and 
not  merely  according  to  goodwill  and  pleasure. 
They  will,  in  the  second  place,  cultivate  their  hearts 
and  prepare  them  to  receive  truth ;  for  he  who 
loves  Christ,  will  love  what  is  good  and  true  and 
beautiful,  wherever  he  may  meet  with  it.  They 
will  sing  therefore  with  grace  in  their  hearts ; 
their  songs  will  be  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual 
songs ;  and  these  will  be  but  the  expression  of  the 
harmony  and  peace  felt  in  their  hearts.  But  when 
the  understanding  and  heart  are  rightly  cultivated, 
the  state  will  also  receive  citizens,  that  do,  whatever 
they  do,  in  the  name  of  Jesus  and  in  the  fear  of 
God.  What  is  it  that  the  citizen  needs  more  than 
anything  else  ?  Whether  he  has  to  sit  in  the 
council  of  kings  or  to  arrange  the  concerns  of  a 
farm  ;  whether  as  a  minister  he  has  to  satisfy  the 
spiritual  wants  of  a  congregation,  or  as  a  teacher  to 
lead  to  knowledge  and  virtue,  he  needs  the  fear  of 
God  above  all  things  and  the  courage  of  a  manly 
disposition.  Whilst  knowledge  exhibits  to  us  the 
good  and  the  right,  firmness  and  moral  courage 
enable  us  to  do  what  is  right.  Whether  our  own 
advantage  try  to  influence  us,  or  predilection,  or 


TUE     INNER     LIFE.  65 

prejudice,  or  respect  for  favor,  honor,  or  promotion, 
or  fear,  yet  a  firm  and  resolute  disposition,  that  fears 
God  and  loves  Christ,  can  not  be  bribed.  A  will- 
ingness to  obey  the  laws  of  the  country,  an  attach- 
ment to  the  constitution,  which  protects  and  defends 
their  rights  and  lives,  love  for  the  country  in 
which  they  live,  and  a  readiness  to  sacrifice  their 
own  lives  for  the  w^elfare  of  the  commonwealth  in 
the  hour  of  danger, — distinguishes  those  who  have 
learned  to  live  in  Christ,  and  to  do  all  they  do  in  His 
name.  Such  a  moral  disposition,  such  a  firmness, 
such  an  unwavering  courage,  is  the  fruit  of  religion, 
of  the  fear  of  God,  and  the  love  of  Christ. 

Yet  schools,  training  up  the  youth  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord,  do  not  only  educate  valuable  citizens 
for  the  state,  but  citizens  too  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ.     Heaven  will  claim  them  as  well  as  earth ! 

In  applying  the  words  of  the  text  to  ourselves, 
we  may  all  learn  a  useful  lesson.  For  if  the  Word 
of  God  is  to  dwell  in  all  our  wisdom,  its  spirit 
ought  not  only  to  fill  and  penetrate  our  teaching 
and  instruction,  but  all  our  rules  and  arrangements, 
all  our  affections  and  discipline,  all  our  admonition 
and  advice.  Colleges  themselves  ought  to  be  re- 
garded as  the  field  for  the  operations  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God,  and  as  the  sacred  seats  of  sanctified 
wisdom  and  knowledge.  If  the  Word  of  God  is  to 
dwell  richly  in  all  wisdom,  then  all  subjects  taught 
in   them   are  holy,  and  ought  to  be  attended  to 


66  THE     NURTURE     OF 

with  regard  and  reverence.  If  the  Word  of  God 
is  to  exhibit  its  power  in  all  our  actions,  then 
Teachers  and  Students  ought  to  love  each  other, 
and  their  intercourse  ought  to  be  marked  bj  Chris- 
tian dignity,  by  respect  for  and  tender  interest  in 
each  other.  No  offence  can  be  greater  in  their 
intercourse,  than  one  offered  to  the  regard  which 
Scholars  owe  to  Teachers  and  Teachers  to  Scholars, 
and  fellow-students  to  each  other.  If  any  offence 
is  to  be  severely  animadverted  upon,  it  is  such  an 
one.  Such  an  offence  darkens  the  bright  hopes  of 
a  school,  and  is  at  the  same  time  like  a  concealed 
poison,  that  undermines  the  character  of  him  who 
gave  it.  An  offence  against  the  rules  of  the  insti- 
tution is  next  in  odiousness.  Every  rule  leads  to 
order  and  regularity ;  without  rules  there  must  be 
confusion.  He  who  does  not  love  and  regard  rules 
in  science,  in  morals,  and  in  his  whole  conduct,  will 
not  love  order,  and  he  who  does  not  love  order  will 
be  superficial,  negligent,  and  destitute  of  respect  for 
himself  in  all  his  undertakings.  Such  persons  are 
a  burden  to  themselves  and  a  curse  to  the  school  of 
which  they  are  members.  Let  therefore  the  Word 
of  God  dwell  richly  in  all  wisdom  and  in  all  your 
actions;  be  conscientious,  regular  in  the  perform- 
ance of  your  duties  ;  and  never  forget  that  no  one 
will  regard  you  more  than  you  see  fit  to  regard 
yourselves. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  teach  and  admonish  one 
another  in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs. 


THE     IXNEll     LIFE.  .  67 

That  the  Word  of  God  may  dwell  richlj'  in  all 
wisdom,  we  must  pray  for  the  presence  of  His 
Spirit  in  our  hearts.  Prayer  must,  therefore,  pre- 
cede and  accompany  all  our  teaching  and  admoni- 
tions ;  prayer  in  private  and  in  public,  prayer  out 
of  season  and  in  season.  It  is  the  principal  means 
to  secure  to  ourselves  personal  holiness ;  it  is  the 
principal  means,  too,  to  call  the  blessing  of  God 
down  upon  an  institution.  Next  to  prayer  we  ought 
to  take  a  deep  interest  in  each  other,  and  especially 
the  pious  in  those  that  are  still  out  of  Christ. 

But  this  interest  must  be  gejiuine.  It  ought  not 
to  flow  forth  merely  from  the  consideration  that 
duty  demands  it,  but  from  a  sanctified  brotherly 
love.  When  we  have  to  force  ourselves  to  it,  when 
it  is  the  offspring  of  cool  reflections,  and  when  we 
cherish  it  as  a  matter  of  duty  or  as  part  of  our 
occupation,  it  will  effect  nothing,  or  have  an  effect 
that  is  not  desirable.  But  when  it  comes  from 
the  heart,  then  it  will  find  its  way  to  the  heart. 

This  interest,  moreover,  ought  to  be  associated 
with  forbearance  and  kindness,  with  meekness  and 
consideration.  It  should  never  become  obtrusive, 
never  presume  that  it  can  effect  what  it  desires 
in  others,  consequently  should  not  be  offended,  nor 
discouraged,  nor  dissatisfied,  when  it  does  not  suc- 
ceed. It  begins  in  love  and  must  end  in  love; 
it  confesses  that  all  depends  on  God,  and  hence 
in  meeting  w^ith  a  disappointment,  it  ought  to  as- 
cribe this  likewise  to  the  Ruler  of  the  universe. 


68  NURTURE     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE. 

If,  now,  in  this  spirit  of  Christian  love  and  with 
such  views,  I  direct  a  word  to  you,  my  young 
friends,  who  are  still  out  of  Christ,  believe  me,  that 
it  is  spoken  from  friendship,  and  from  a  true  inte- 
rest in  your  eternal  welfare.  Your  opportunities 
for  receiving  the  peace  of  God  into  your  hearts  are 
manifold;  and  if  you  reject  it  as  often  as  it  is 
offered  to  you,  you  must  finally  render  yourselves 
wholly  insensible  to  it.  The  peace  of  God  is  neces- 
sary for  your  comfort  in  life,  it  is  more  necessary 
still  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  most  necessary  when 
you  will  have  to  stand  before  the  bar  of  judgment. 
There  is  a  God  who  sees  and  watches  you,  who 
knows  and  perceives  all  your  actions  and  views 
and  feelings.  He  is  your  Creator,  He  will  be  your 
Judge.  His  approbation  is  desirable.  His  peace 
worth  more  than  much  fine  gold.  He  offers  you 
His  peace  daily,  hourly ;  He  offers  it  to  you  in  the 
youth  of  your  lives.  Do  not  despise  His  offers  con- 
stantly, until  He  will  no  more  repeat  them,  or  until 
He  calls  you  from  time  to  eternity.  Then  it  will 
be  too  late  to  get  the  peace  of  God ;  and  without  a 
guide  to  find  the  path  that  leads  through  the  valley 
of  death  to  the  heaven  of  life,  without  consolation 
or  hope,  your  eyes  will  close  in  deep  night,  and 
despair  will  hang  around  you  and  snatch  from  you 
every  hope  of  peace.  Be  wise  in  time,  and  seek 
early  for  that  which  alone  can  render  you  happy 
in  life  and  in  death,  in  time  and  in  eternity ! 


THE  FllUlTS  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

Phil.  1  :  9-11. 

"And  this  I  praj,  tlaat  your  love  may  abound  yet  more  and  more  in 
knowledge  and  in  all  judgment;  that  ye  may  approve  things  that  are 
excellent ;  that  ye  may  be  sincere,  and  without  offence,  till  the  day  of 
Christ;  being  filled  with  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  whicli  are  by  Jesus 
Christ,  unto  the  glory  and  praise  of  God." 

Our  Heavenly  Father !  We  approach  Thy 
throne,  to  adore  and  praise  Thee.  Thou  art 
Light,  but  we  are  surrounded  by  darkness.  Thou 
art  love,  but  we  are  opposed  to  Thee,  and  hate 
each  other.  Thou  art  holy,  but  we  are  sinners, 
and  there  is  nothing  good  in  us.  We  beseech 
Thee,  the  source  of  all  holiness,  that,  by  the  in- 
fluences of  Thy  Holy  Spirit,  Thou  wilt  sanctify 
our  hearts,  purify  our  feelings,  determine  all  our 
resolutions,  and  devote  our  will  to  Thy  service, 
and  glory,  and  honor. 

We  can  perform  no  good  deeds  by  our  own 
power ;  we  cannot  obtain  righteousness  by  our 
own  merits,  for  we  have  none.  But,  believing  in 
the  death  of  Christ,  and  receiving  His  life  by  faith, 
and  His  sufferings  in  our  stead,  we  may  be  justi- 
fied through  Thy  eternal  grace.  Give  us  this 
faith  and  this  righteousness ! 


70  THE     FRUITS    OF 

Let  the  tree  of  our  lives  be  filled  with  the  fruits 
of  righteousness,  which  are  in  lis  through  Christ 
Jesus;  may  we  grow  in  knowledge,  and  approve 
all  things  that  are  more  excellent;  may  our  Lord 
dwell  in  us,  for  He  can  render  him  strong  who  is 
weak,  He  can  make  him  rich  who  is  poor  in  spirit, 
and  him  unconquerable  who  is  surrounded  by  the 
snares  and  allurements  of  life. 

We  feel,  0  Lord !  that  all  depends  upon  Thy 
blessing.     Grant  us  this  Thy  holy  blessing ! 

Bless  the  Church  of  Christ  as  far  as  it  extends ; 
protect  it  from  dangers  from  within  and  from  with- 
out; preserve  its  purity;  let  it  grow  in  love,  and  let 
every  temple  become  a  seminary  of  the  eternal 
truth. 

Bless  all  missionary  undertakings ;  grant  that 
through  them  the  time  may  be  hastened,  when  all 
shall  know  Thee. 

Bless  all  the  Institutions  devoted  to  Thy  honor ; 
bless  the  Sunday  Schools ;  bless  the  Teachers  en- 
gaged in  them.  Let  the  children  come  to  Thee, 
for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Let  this  country  prosper.  Sanctify  its  rulers, 
that  they  may  honor  Thee.  Bless  this  town  and 
neighborhood ;  grant  that  every  one  in  it  may  be 
devoted  to  Thy  name ;  that  it  may  be  their  daily 
meat  and  drink  to  do  Thy  will.  Be  with  this 
afflicted  congregation,  and  whilst  they  are  a  flock 
without  a  shepherd,  let  each  one  feel,  that  Thou 
hast  promised  to  be  with  Thy  people  always  even 
unto  the  end  of  the  world. — 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  71 

Every  plant  or  animal,  as  long  as  it  lives,  grows 
until  it  reaches  the  highest  degree  of  perfection  of 
which  its  nature  is  susceptible.  This  is  the  general 
law  of  all  that  is  created,  and  it  is  but  reasonable  to 
look  for  a  similar  law  in  those  who  tread  the  path 
of  light,  following  the  steps  of  Him,  who  eve^i  in 
His  earliest  childhood  taught  the  wisest  and  most 
learned  of  His  time.  It  is  but  natural  to  expect 
that  the  older  they  grow  in  age,  the  wiser  do  they 
become  in  divine  knowledge,  the  stronger  in  Chris- 
tian love,  the  more  ardent  in  their  zeal  for  the 
cause  of  our  Redeemer.  And  we  may  expect  this 
the  more,  since  whilst  everything  else  on  earth  has 
a  limit  appointed  to  it,  the  growth  of  the  Christian 
has  no  limit.  In  our  earthly  business  and  occupa- 
tions we  may  frequently  say,  "  It  is  finished,"  if 
not  before  the  hour  of  death,  at  least  in  that  hour. 
Then  we  shall  have  finished  gathering  riches ;  then 
our  earthly  cares  and  trials  will  be  finished ;  then 
the  pursuits  of  ambition  will  be  at  an  end.  But  the 
Christian  when  dying  must  acknowledge  that  this 
life  is  but  a  state  of  probation,  but  the  commence- 
ment of  a  work,  which  will  extend  throughout,  and 
have  consequences  for,  all  eternity.  Such  a  work 
ought  indeed  to  arrest  all  our  attention,  to  claim 
our  interest  before  all  others;  ought  to  cause  us,  who 
are  buried  with  Christ,  to  grow  dally  in  that,  in 
which  we  hope  to  live  eternally.  And  yet  how  fre- 
quently do  we  find  it  otherwise !  There  are  so- 
called   Christians,   that   promised    fairly   in    their 


72  THE     FRUITS     OF 

youth,  but  in  more  advanced  age  retain  scarcely  a 
dark  remembrance  of  their  knowledge,  gathered  in 
early  years ;  there  are  others  who  seemed  to  have 
received  a  warm  and  lasting  impression,  but  their 
earthly  cares  and  worldly  desires  have  effaced  it ; 
others  whose  fondness  for  pleasure  grows  whilst  the 
vigor  of  their  body  declines — others  who  daily  with- 
draw themselves  more  and  more  from  the  softening 
influences  of  benevolence  and  love,  fill  their  breast 
with  envy,  distrust,  avarice,  and  selfishness,  whilst 
their  gray  heads  are  bending  ripe  for  their  graves. 
Paul,  in  addressing  the  congregation  at  Philippi, 
assures  them  that  he  prayed  for  them  to  his  God 
that  their  love  might  abound  more  and  more  in 
knowledge  and  in  all  judgment,  that  they  might 
approve  all  things  excellent  and  be  filled  with  the 
fruits  of  righteousness.  Paul  neither  advocated  a 
faith,  living  only  in  the  head,  without  affecting 
the  life,  whose  principal  object  is  knowledge  and 
wisdom;  nor  a  faith  that  has  its  root  only  in  the 
heart;  but  prayed  that  by  the  grace  of  God  the 
congregation  at  Philippi  might  possess  that  faith, 
which,  as  a  new  principle,  would  pervade  equally 
all  the  faculties  of  their  souls  and  all  the  affections 
of  their  hearts,  which  would  sanctify  all  their  de- 
sires and  consecrate  their  whole  lives  to  the  service 
of  the  Lord ;  that  they  might  grow  in  such  f\iith, 
until  their  lives  would  be  filled  with  the  fruits  of 
righteousness.  The  theme  of  my  discourse  will  be 
derived  from  the  11th  verse. 


THE     JXXEU     LIFE.  73 

"  Being  filled  with  tlio  fruits  of  righteousness, 
which  are  by  Jesus  Christ  unto  the  glory  and  praise 
of  God."  I  shall  show  how  the  life  of  the  Christian  is 
filled  icith  these  fndts.  In  showing  this,  each  word 
of  the  text  demands  a  particular  consideration. 

1.  And  first  of  all,  the  term  righteousness.  A 
righteous  man,  according  to  the  Old  Testament, 
was  one  who,  having  fulfilled  all  the  command- 
ments, had  by  his  own  M'orks  and  merits  secured 
to  himself  the  favor  of  God,  and  had  a  right  to 
expect  the  promised  reward.  Yet  no  man  could 
be  considered  righteous,  unless  he  had  fulfilled 
all  the  law,  and  was  perfect  as  our  Father  in 
heaven.  This  being  utterly  impossible,  inasmuch 
as,  possessing  a  sinful  nature,  we  either  do  the 
works  of  the  flesh,  of  sin,  and  of  darkness,  or  if  our 
works  agree  externalhj  with  the  law,  our  motives 
and  internal  disposition,  which  are  the  soul  of  our 
actions  and  determine  their  value,  are  still  sinful 
and  wanting  in  love,  which  alone  produces  what  is 
good, — there  is  no  righteousness  to  be  obtained 
under  the  law  and  by  works.  Even  Abraham  was 
considered  righteous  only  on  account  of  his  faith. 
Without  a  Mediator,  without  a  Eedeemer,  we 
would  be  given  to  sin,  and  our  fiite  would  be 
eternal  condemnation.  Through  our  Saviour,  how- 
ever, another  righteousness  has  been  procured, 
which  is  diametrically  opposed  to  the  righteousness 
of  the  law.  That  righteousness  being  a  gift  of 
grace,  is  to  be  obtained  only  by  faith  in  Christ. 


74  THE     FRUITS     OF 

Acknowledging  our  utter  insufficiency,  confessing 
our  own  unworthiness,  and  that  we  can  have  no 
merit  of  our  own,  resigning  all  that  is  ours,  being 
poor  in  spirit  and  thirsting  after  righteousness,  we 
must  place  our  whole  confidence  in  the  death  of 
Christ;  we  must,  with  a  joyful  and  grateful  hope  in 
Him,  yield  our  whole  heart  to  Him,  be  buried  with 
Him,  rise  with  Him,  die  unto  ourselves  and  the 
world  and  live  only  in  Him,  and  thus  receive  that 
righteousness  which  the  Saviour  has  purchased  for 
us  by  His  blood.  The  origin  of  this  righteousness 
is  God,  the  Mediator  is  Christ,  he  that  receives  it 
gratuitously  is  man,  and  the  means  by  which  he 
may  partake  of  it  is  faith,  and  faith  alone. 

The  diiferences  between  the  righteousness  under 
the  old  and  that  under  the  new  dispensation,  are 
striking;  and  in  order  that  I  may  not  be  misunder- 
stood in  my  assertions,  I  shall  point  out  the  prin- 
cipal one.  Whilst  the  righteousness  wrought  under 
the  law  claimed  a  merit  of  its  own,  led  to  Phari- 
saical pride  and  hypocrisy,  and  demanded  its  re- 
•ward  as  having  a  right  to  it;  the  righteousness  by 
faith,  being  based  on  a  profound  sense  of  our  own 
insufficiency  and  unworthiness,  begins  in  humi- 
lity, resigns  all  self-will,  and  prays  that  God  will  use 
all  our  powers  and  faculties,  all  our  days  and  hours, 
all  our  relations  and  our  whole  life,  to  His  glory ; 
that  He  will  determine  our  wills  and  sanctify  our 
hearts,  free  us  from  selfishness,  and  do  all  in  us  that 
is  necessary  for  our  sanctification. 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  75 

But  this  righteousness  is  not  only  based  on  humi- 
lity, it  receives  all  its  nourishment  also  from  it,  and 
can  prosper  only  by  it.  Knowing  that  reconciliation 
and  justification  have  been  brought  about  only 
through  Christ  Jesus,  we  dare  not  look  for  mercy 
unworthy  of  God,  but  we  may  place  our  hope  on 
his  grace  in  Christ.  "  Wherefore  gird  up  the  loins 
of  your  mind,  be  sober  and  hope  to  the  end,  for  the 
grace  that  is  to  be  brought  unto  you  at  the  revela- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ."  In  the  light  of  this  grace  we 
must  feel  our  own  wretchedness  more  deeply,  re- 
pent of  our  sinfulness  more  heartily,  look  with 
more  gratitude  upon  the  blessings  we  have  received, 
and  perceive  more  clearly  our  dignity  as  Chris- 
tians, more  seriously  our  destination  here  on  earth 
and  hereafter  in  heaven. 

Again :  as  humility  is  the  commencement  and 
the  only  nourishment  of  righteousness  by  faith,  so 
it  is  also  its  principal  support.  Self-righteousness 
gives  a  dangerous  feeling  of  security  and  safety;  it 
does  not  see  the  danger  of  so  many  sensual  impres- 
sions on  our  inner  man ;  it  does  not  avoid  tempta- 
tions to  do  evil,  for  it  is  proud  and  self-confident ; 
it  exposes  itself  to  the  allurements  and  snares  which 
are  laid  here  by  a  passion,  there  by  a  habit — here 
by  a  relation  to  men,  there  by  a  combination 
of  circumstances — here  by  the  business  and  clamor 
of  the  world,  there  by  the  silence  of  night — here  by 
the  ardent  urgency  of  a  mistaken  zeal,  and  there 
even  by  the  blessing  of  a  good  deed ;  for  working 


76  TIIEFRUITSOF 

in  its  own  strength,  it  attributes  all  success  to  itself, 
and  not  to  Him  from  whom  it  comes.  Righteous- 
ness, on  the  other  hand,  obtained  by  faith,  is  hum- 
ble, knows  its  own  weakness,  and  takes  no  steps 
without  asking  for  the  approval  of  Christ.  It  leads 
us  to  pray  constantly  that  He  would  watch  over 
our  hearts,  that  He  would  give  us  an  insight  into 
all  that  surrounds  us ;  that  He  would  keep  our 
feet  from  the  snares  which  the  world  lays  for  us. 
We  listen  to  every  good  advice ;  are  grateful  for  all 
instruction,  for  we  desire  to  grow  in  wisdom ;  we 
are  anxious  that  all  men  with  whom  we  are  con- 
nected, should  assist  us  in  the  work  of  sanctifica- 
tion  ;  should  warn  us  and  tell  us  when  we  err. 
Our  only  object  is  to  purify  the  feelings,  to  diminish 
the  desires,  to  overcome  the  passions,  to  raise  the 
mind  be^-ond  space  and  time,  and  to  drink  from  the 
Source  that  alone  can  quench  all  thirst  forever. 
Our  breastplate  and  our  weapon  is  Jesus  Christ ; 
to  Him  we  look  up  in  the  hour  of  danger;  before 
Him  we  bend  the  knee  in  times  of  peace  and 
security.  For  He  alone  can  help  ;  He  alone  can 
make  him  strong  who  is  weak,  and  him  rich  who 
is  poor  in  spirit,  and  him  unconquerable  who  is 
surrounded  by  the  greatest  dangers. 

Finally,  humility  is  the  crown  of  righteousness 
by  faith.  Not  the  deed  we  do,  deserves  any  praise 
or  can  claim  any  merit,  but  all  glory  belongs  to 
that  Power  which  gave  us  the  will  to  do  the  deed. 
Not  the  gift  we  offer  should  receive  the  honor,  but 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  77 

the  love  of  Christ  in  lis,  that  induces  us  to  brin^x  it. 
Not  the  pressing  of  the  hand  of  an  enemy,  not  the  lips 
speaking  the  word  of  reconciliation,  can  claim  any 
merit,  but  the  mildness  and  kindness  of  Christ,  living 
and  active  in  us.  All  the  power,  by  which  we  can  do 
anything  good,  conies  from  Him,  who  is  the  only 
source  and  fountain  of  all  good ;  all  we  possess  is 
His,  except  sin  :  to  Him  belongs  all  merit  and  all 
glory  ;  for  He  commences  the  work  in  us,  and 
completes  it  also. 

2.  The  text,  in  the  second  place,  speaks  of  the 
fruits  of  righteousness.  What  has  been  wrought 
by  Christ  internally,  Paul  declares  must  show  itself 
externally.  Let  us  however  notice,  that  Paul 
speaks  o^  fruits  and  not  of  luorJvS.  Works  may  be 
artificial ;  they  may  appear  to  be  what  they  are  not 
really.  They  may  be  beautiful,  and  still  the  dis- 
position in  which  they  are  done,  the  intention 
which  is  their  soul,  may  be  poisonous ;  they  may 
be  in  outward  conformity  to  the  law,  whilst  they 
are  utterly  immoral.  Fruits  on  the  other  hand  are 
organic  productions,  which  cannot  be  brought  forth 
by  art  or  evil  design  ;  they  are  not  the  works  of  the 
sun,  nor  of  the  air,  nor  of  rain — though  all  of  them 
are  necessary, — but  the  natural  productions  of  that 
juice,  which  lives  in  the  tree,  which  produces  the 
leaf,  the  bud,  and  the  blossom,  and  finally  concen- 
trates itself  in  the  fruit,  continues  to  live  in  it  and 
gives  witness  to  the  world  of  its  nature.  As  the 
fruit  now  is  potentially  in  the  seed,  so  all  good  deeds 


tb  THE     FRUITS     OF 

are  inclosed  in  that  righteousness,  which  we  have 
by  faith ;  and  if  Christ  own  this,  He  must  own  all 
it  contains  and  produces.  Again  :  as  natural  as  it 
is,  for  the  healthy  seed,  when  sunk  into  the  fruc- 
tifying bosom  of  the  earth,  and  favored  by  the 
vivifying  rays  of  the  sun,  to  spring  up  and  produce 
its  fruits  ; — so  natural  and  necessary  is  it  also, 
that  righteousness  planted  in  us  by  Christ,  exer- 
cise and  develop  its  life,  and  produce  those  fruits 
which  are  inclosed  in  it,  love,  joy, peace,  forhearance, 
mildness,  kindness,  cliastiUj.  And  this  ougld  not 
only  to  be  so,  but  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  As  little  as 
that  which  does  not  shine  can  be  light ;  or  that 
which  does  not  emit  heat  can  be  fire  ;  or  that  which 
does  not  utter  itself  can  be  power ;  or  that  which 
is  not  active  can  be  life ;  as  little  as  the  plant 
which  does  not  produce  grapes,  but  thistles,  can  be 
a  vine  ;  or  the  tree  which  does  not  bear  figs,  but 
grapes,  can  be  a  fig  tree  ; — so  little  can  that  be 
righteousness,  which  does  not  bring  forth  the  fruits 
of  righteousness.  By  its  fruits  we  know  the  tree ; 
if  holiness  dwells  in  our  hearts,  it  will  flow  forth, 
for  with  what  the  heart  is  filled,  of  that  it  over- 
flows ;  if  righteousness  lives  in  us,  it  will  embrace 
our  whole  life,  in  all  its  smaller  and  greater,  in 
its  private  and  public  relations.  It  will  embrace 
all  our  wishes,  desires,  and  undertakings,  all  of  which 
will  develop  themselves  from  it,  as  branches,  leaves, 
and  blossoms  naturally  grow  forth  from  the  seed. 
3.    Paul   says   further :    Being   filled  with   the 


THE     INJN'EK     LIFE.  79 

fruits  of  righteousness.  A  tree  that  is  sound  and 
upon  which  all  necessary  conditions  exert  a  favor- 
able influence,  will  be  full  of  fruits ;  every  branch, 
every  twig  will  be  laden,  and  even  the  tender 
leaves  will  conceal  many.  So  ought  the  Christian's 
life  to  be  filled  with  many  fruits  of  righteousness. 
lie  lives  for  a  great  destination.  Among  men  he  is 
to  ripen  for  the  circles  of  angels,  and  to  commence 
a  life  that  shall  be  completed  only  in  another  world. 
Can  he  be  neijllgent'?  He  has  a  great  Pattern,  every 
minute  of  whose  life  was  devoted  to  our  salvation, 
and  whose  meat  and  drink  it  was  to  do  the  will  of 
his  Father  in  heaven  :  shall  the  Christian  be  satis- 
fied with  a  few  unconnected  eflbrts?  The  Christian, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  enjoys  a  heavenly  strength 
and  power;  for  he  knows  that  he  is  of  a  divine 
origin,  that  he  is  under  a  holy  protection,  that  he 
has  a  heavenly  Ally,  and  he  feels  that  though  he  be 
weak,  yet  his  Saviour  in  him  is  mighty:  shall  not 
his  works,  his  labors,  his  undertakings,  aim  at 
something  beyond  that  which  common  men  effect  ? 
The  Christian  remembers  that  there  is  a  day  of 
judgment,  when  he  must  give  an  account  of  all  he 
has  done,  of  what  he  has  thought  or  felt,  of  what 
he  has  accomplished  or  neglected  :  ought  he  not  to 
watch  and  to  pray,  lest  he  enter  into  temptation  ? 
Lest  he  do  not  apply  his  precious  time  to  the  glory 
of  God  ?  The  tree  of  a  Christian's  life,  acting  under 
a  consciousness  of  his  call,  must  be  laden  with  the 
fruits  of  righteousness.     If  righteousness  fills  our 


80  THE    FRUITS    OF 

thoughts,  sanctifies  our  feelings,  guides  our  feet, 
stimuhites  our  faculties,  and  enters  into  all  our  re- 
lations, blessing  and  adorning  them,  will  not  our 
efforts  produce  fruits  to  ripen  in  eternity  ?  Should 
we  not,  then,  be  diligent  members  of  our  families, 
and  agreeable  companions  in  society ;  tender  givers 
and  grateful  receivers ;  willing  to  make  a  promise 
for  a  good  work  and  ftiithful  in  keeping  it ;  kind  to 
a  friend  and  forgiving  to  an  enemy;  cheerful  in  the 
fulfilment  of  duties,  patient  in  suffering,  casting  all 
our  cares  on  Christ?  If  the  Christian  is  what  he 
ought  to  be,  fruit  will  follow  upon  fruit,  for  he 
prospers  in  the  rays  of  a  mild  and  of  a  heavenly  sun. 

4.  But  do  we  not  feel,  as  if  the  mark  toward 
wdiich  we  press,  can  never  be  reached  by  beings 
weak  and  frail  as  we  are  ?  Does  it  not  seem  as  if 
our  tree  of  righteousness  can  produce  but  a  few 
miserable  fruits  ?  It  is  not  v:e,  according  to  Paul, 
who  are  active,  but  Christ  in  us;  He  works 
through  us:  "being  filled  with  the  fruits  of  right- 
eousness, which  are  by  Jesus  Christ,'''  says  the  text. 

Whilst  in  a  state  of  sinfulness,  the  tree  of  our  life 
bore  only  wild  and  poisonous  fruits;  for  our  works 
were  the  works  of  darkness,  dead  works,  externally 
beautiful  but  bitter  within.  Through  Christ,  how- 
ever, a  heavenly  scion  has  been  grafted  on  an 
earthly  trunk,  and  the  same  tree  now  produces 
entirely  different  fruits.  In  the  converted,  flesh 
and  blood  no  longer  prevail,  but  the  Lord,  Christ 
Jesus.     The  Spirit  has  slain  the  old  man  and  in- 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  81 

stilled  II  principle  Avhicli  has  made  evcrjdhing  new. 
The  spiritually  dead  have  been  quickened;  the  law 
of  the  members  no  longer  contradicts  the  will  of 
God ;  though  we  may  fail,  for  man  errs  as  long 
as  he  lives,  yet  we  trust  in  Christ,  who  will  not 
leave  us  nor  forsake  us.  Through  Christ  in  us, 
therefore,  the  fruits  of  righteousness  are  produced. 
As  the  brunch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself  except  it 
abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  we  except  we  abide 
in  Christ  and  He  in  us. 

5.  Finall}^,  the  text  speaks  of  "fruits  unto  the 
glory  and  praise  of  God."  The  man  of  faith  and 
righteousness  perceives  indeed  the  Glory  of  God  in 
all  that  He  has  created,  in  the  occurrences  of  the 
world,  in  his  own  fortunes  or  misfortunes,  in  his 
joys  and  sorrows,  in  times  of  trouble  and  peace,  in 
death  and  in  life,  nay  even  vice  and  sin  must  glorify 
God  and  serve  Him.  But  nothing  in  nature  nor 
in  history,  is  so  w^ell  calculated  to  glorify  God  and 
praise  Him,  as  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  for  the 
Glory  of  God  is  their  direct  result  and  their  object. 
It  is  their  rcsidt,  for  they  glorify  Him  among  those 
by  whom  Christians  are  surrounded.  They  see  in 
the  fruits  of  righteousness  the  influence  of  the  Spirit 
and  power  of  God;  they  cannot  but  acknowledge 
a  disposition  sanctified  by  a  higher  principle  than 
earth  with  all  it  has  can  impart;  they  must  confess 
that  God  is  wise  and  great  and  worthy  of  adoration, 
when  they  see  our  love,  our  zeal,  our  forgiveness  of 
injuries,  and  above  all  our  peace  and  joy  in  the 


82  THE     FRUITS    OF 

hour  of  death.  Whilst  our  light  shines  before  them, 
they  ma}',  perhaps,  through  it  see  Him,  whom  before 
they  knew  not ;  and  this  is  ever  the  ohject  of  the 
many  fruits  which  our  righteousness  produces  here 
on  earth.  Their  end  and  main  purpose  is  that  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  be  spread  on  earth,  that  His  will 
be  done  among  us  as  it  is  done  in  heaven.  Wrought 
through  Christ  in  us,  can  these  fruits  be  without 
His  spirit?  If  we  are  true  Christians,  true  followers 
of  our  Saviour,  then  wherever  we  go  the  khir/dom  of 
our  Redeemer  will  go  likewise,  wherever  ive  are, 
the  love  within  us  will  flow  forth  as  water  flows 
from  a  fountain.  We  will  strive  above  all  things 
to  do  His  will  whom  we  profess  to  serve;  we  will 
desire  that  the  time  may  come  when  all  shall  know 
the  Lord  and  praise  and  adore  Him  forever.  The 
earth  and  all  that  is  in  it,  is  the  Lord's ;  can  we 
endure  it,  that  He,  who  is  the  Creator  of  all,  be 
any  longer  deprived  of  that  gratitude  and  submission 
w^hich  are  due  Him?  That  honor  be  given  any 
longer  to  idols,  passions,  and  vices? 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  Christians  under  all  cir- 
cumstances, in  every  occupation,  and  in  all  their 
duties,  prove  themselves  to  be  the  servants  of  God, 
laboring  for  His  glory ;  that  they  consider  it  the 
supreme  purpose  of  their  lives  to  work  with  consci- 
entiousness, with  circumspection,  with  care,  with 
perseverance,  and  with  faithfulness,  for  the  honor  of 
their  Creator;  that  they  approve  the  things  that 
are  more  excellent;  and  that  it  is  their  meat  and 


THE     INNKli     LIFE.  bo 

drink  to   aid  all   attempts  that  are  made  for  tiie 
propagation  of  the  Gospel. 

Let  me  then  urge  it  upon  you  as  your  duty  to  be 
always  active  in  some  noble  and  good  work,  to 
labor  for  the  salvation  of  others  and  for  the  spread 
of  Christ's  kingdom.  If  you  do  so,  you  have  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  your  labor  is  the  fruit 
of  the  righteousness  which  is  in  us  through  Christ 
Jesus.  You  may  anticipate  the  favor  of  God,  and 
rejoice  in  knowing  that  you  fulfil  a  duty  which  our 
Saviour  has  enjoined  on  every  believer.  Your 
labors,  like  the  dew  that  falls  from  heaven,  will  be 
a  double  blessing,  a  blessing  to  yourselves  and  to 
those  for  whom  you  labor.  They  will  bless  your- 
selves in  eternity  with  a  heavenltj  reward,  but  they 
will  also  bless  you  here  already  on  earth.  Activity 
in  a  good  work  must  ennoble  our  talents  and  facul- 
ties, and  strengthen  us  in  wisdom  and  knowledge. 
It  is  but  too  true,  that  sense  and  all  visible  things 
exercise  an  irresistible  power  over  us,  and  that  in 
all  we  undertake,  we  look  principally  to  our  own 
advantage.  How  beneficial  then  must  it  not  be  to 
your  disposition  to  be  active,  not  in  the  work  of 
your  own  will,  but  in  the  work  of  Him  who  lived 
and  died  for  us !  How  beneficial  must  it  not  be  to 
your  character  to  take  thought  not  for  your  own  ad- 
vantage, for  your  own  honor,  for  your  own  gain,  but 
for  the  honor  of  Him  who  did  not  seek  His  own 


84  THE     FIUTITS    OF 

honor,  but  that  of  His  Father  in  Heaven,  and  was 
obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross ! 

Again  :  It  is  only  by  exercise  that  our  spiritual 
as  well  as  our  intellectual  faculties  are  developed 
and  perfected.  You  cannot  be  active  in  a  good 
cause,  you  cannot  labor  for  the  salvation  of  others 
without  benefiting  yourselves, without  producing  the 
fruits  of  patience,  submission,  perseverance,  hu- 
mility, confidence  in  the  blessing  of  God;  and  the 
greater  the  difficulties  in  your  way,  the  more  readily 
will  these  fruits  grow.  Though  you  labor  in  a  good 
work  your  existence  will  obtain  a  higher  value  in 
the  eyes  of  God  and  man,  your  character  a  nobler 
tendency,  your  activity  a  more  desirable  object, 
your  thoughts  and  endeavors  will  be  directed  more 
towards  that  which  is  above,  and  upon  all  you  do, 
you  will  stamp  the  spirit  of  truth,  of  love,  and  of 
order. 

And  in  doing  so  you  will  call  God's  blessing  upon 
those  for  whom  3'OU  labor  in  promoting  the  spread 
of  the  Gospel.  If  you  will  labor  with  cheerfulness 
you  must  consider  yourselves  instruments  in  the 
hands  of  God;  you  must  be  convinced  that  through 
you  He  has  determined  in  His  eternal  counsel  to 
call  many  from  death  unto  life.  Perhaps  it  may 
seem  sometimes  as  if  your  labors  are  not  blessed ; 
but  can  you  believe  that  He  who  has  conmienced  a 
good  work  will  leave  it  unfinished  ?  What  2cesoic  ice 
sJiall  also  reap  :  but  is  there  no  lapse  of  time  between 
the  season  of  sowing  and  that  of  reaping?     It  is  our 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  85 

lot  to  SOW  in  hope,  and  labor  in  blessing ;  to  com- 
mence an  undertaking  in  the  hope  that  it  will 
prosper;  to  cultivate  the  land  in  the  hope  that  it 
will  produce  a  harvest;  to  navigate  the  ocean  in  the 
hope  that  it  will  yield  its  tribute ;  to  preach  the 
Gospel,  in  the  hope  that  its  truth  will  win  souls  to 
Christ.  Shall  it  be  otherwise  with  your  labors? 
Sometimes  the  blessing  of  our  endeavors  retires  into 
remote  places  and  distant  times,  and  will  not  be 
known  to  us  until  eternity  reveals  it;  whilst  at 
other  times  sowing  and  reaping  occur  almost  in  the 
same  hour.  Sometimes  he  who  scatters  the  seed 
sinks  into  the  earth  with  it;  the  seed  grows 
and  blooms  around  his  grave,  and  another  seems  to 
reap  what  he  has  sown  :  but  are  not  the  dead  that 
die  in  the  Lord  blessed,  for  they  rest  from  their 
labors  and  their  works  do  follow  them  ?  How 
many  a  one  may  be  won  for  Christ  by  the  zeal  of  a 
minister  who  does  not  know  the  fact;  and  whilst 
separated  from  each  other  by  hills  and  valleys,  they 
work  in  the  same  spirit,  and  for  the  same  Master! 
How  many  a  one,  without  our  imagining  it,  is  first 
called  by  our  example  and  piety  to  turn  his  atten- 
tion to  the  truth  of  the  Gospel,  and  is  finally  con- 
verted by  the  grace  of  God !  How  many  a  one, 
without  our  remembering  him  any  longer,  remem- 
bers our  words,  and  finds  in  them  comfort  and  con- 
solation amid  his  cares  and  trials!  How  many  a 
one  may  take  our  names  on  his  lips  whilst  his  heart 
beats  with  joy  and  gratitude !     Does  not  many  a 


8G  THE     FRUITS     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE. 

venerable  teacher  sink  into  the  grave,  without  see- 
ing the  fruits,  the  seeds  of  which  he  has  sown  with- 
out knowing  to  the  full  extent  the  love,  gratitude, 
and  attachment  of  those  who  weep  over  his  memory 
and  bless  his  name ! 

Yet  what  is  all  blessing  on  earth  compared  with 
that  which  we  will  see  hereafter  in  Heaven.  When 
you  rest  from  your  labors,  your  works  will  follow 
you.  All  is  vanity  on  earth ;  the  treasures  you 
collect;  the  works  you  complete  or  leave  unfinished; 
the  improvements  of  your  farms ;  the  changes  you 
effect ;  the  tokens  of  applause  you  may  receive 
from  the  world  :  all  is  vain  and  void,  when  you 
turn  away  from  the  Visible  to  the  Invisible.  But 
if  you  lead  a  soul  to  God,  if  you  glorify  and  honor 
His  name  in  all  you  do,  if  the  power  of  His  king- 
dom comes,  wherever  you  go — then  your  endeavors 
will  not  be  vain,  but  they  will  yield  fruits  which 
will  ripen  for  eternity,  and  which  you  will  see  and 
enjoy  only  in  eternity.  This  is  a  heavenly  reward, 
a  blessing  invisible  on  earth. 

May  you  therefore  not  only  labor  from  a  sense  of 
duty,  but  may  it  be  your  daily  meat  and  drink,  as 
it  was  that  of  our  Saviour.  May  you  continue  to 
work  as  long  as  it  is  day.  The  night  will  come 
soon :  let  us,  therefore,  follow  Him  who  came  not 
to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister  and  to  give 
His  life  a  ransom  for  many.     Amen. 


THE  HUMILITY  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

Luke  18 :  0-14. 

"  And  lie  spake  this  parable  unto  certain  which  trusted  in  themselves 
that  they  were  righteous,  and  despised  others  : — Two  men  went  up  into 
the  temple  to  pray  ;  the  one  a  Pharisee  and  the  other  a  Publican.  The 
Pharisee  stood  and  prayed  thus  with  himself,  God,  I  thank  Thee,  that 
I  am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as 
this  Publican.  I  fast  twice  in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all  that  I  pos- 
sess. And  the  Publican,  standing  afar  off,  would  not  lift  up  so  much 
as  his  eyes  unto  heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner.  I  tell  you  this  man  went  down  to  his  house 
justified  rather  than  the  other  :  for  every  one  that  exaltcth  himself  shall 
be  abased  ;  and  he  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted." 

Lord,  our  Heavenly  Father !  before  Thee  all  the 
hosts  of  Heaven  bow  ;  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth  adore  Thee  in  the  dust.  Thou  art  great,  and 
Thy  greatness  is  incomprehensible  even  to  angels, 
that  enjoy  Thy  light  throughout  all  eternity.  We, 
who  are  full  of  weakness  and  sin,  full  of  frailty  and 
guilt,  whose  minds  are  shrouded  in  darkness — we 
would  not  dare  to  approach  Thee,  if  Thy  grace  and 
mercy  did  not  equal  Thy  greatness  and  majesty. 
It  is  this  grace  that  raises  us  up,  when  the  thought 
of  Thy  awful  greatness  presses  us  dov/n  to  the  dust ; 
and  while  we  approtich  Thee  full  of  reverence,  we 
come,  at  the  same  time,  like  children  that  know 
the  unbounded  love  of  their  Father  in  Heaven. 


88  THE     HUMILITY    OF 

Our  prayer  to-day  is,  0  Lord !  that  Thou  wilt 
awaken  in  us,  and  preserve  in  us,  a  deep  sense  of 
our  manifold  transgressions  against  Thy  holy  law ; 
and  that  Thou  wilt  grant  us  humility. 

Grant  humility  to  all  nations,  that  they  may  not 
grow  proud,  and  foolish,  and  inconsiderate  ;  that 
they  may  not  thirst,  from  ambition,  after  any  other 
glory  but  that  which  they  will  derive  from  the 
promotion  of  Thy  honor. 

Grant  humility  to  all  those  in  power,  and  espe- 
cially to  those,  who  in  Thy  providence  are  at  the 
head  of  our  own  Government.  May  they  under- 
stand it,  and  acknowledge  it,  that  they  are  respon- 
sible to  Thee  for  all  they  do. 

Grant  humility  to  all  citizens  of  our  country ;  to 
the  rich,  as  Avell  as  to  the  poor ;  to  the  young  as 
well  as  to  the  aged.  May  all  of  them  say  daily  : 
Lord  be  merciful  to  us,  miserable  sinners. 

0  Lord !  we  pray  Thee,  grant  humility  to  the 
youth  collected  here.  Suffer  none  of  them  to 
aspire  after  his  own  honor ;  suffer  none  to  seek  for 
knowledge  and  science  on  their  own  account  merely ; 
but  may  they  seek  it  for  the  purpose  of  advancing 
happiness,  and  of  promoting  Thy  kingdom.  May 
all  of  them  enter  life  in  humility ;  may  it  be  their 
meat  and  drink  to  do  Thy  will,  and  to  go  whither- 
soever thou  callest  them  ;  and  may,  in  humility, 
the  one  esteem  the  other  higher  than  himself. 

And  now,  Lord !  purify,  and  sanctify,  and 
strengthen,  and  console  all  of  us  by  granting  us 


TDE     INNER    LIFF.  89 

liuiiiility.  Bless  the  happy  with  humilitj-,  that 
they  may  not  fix  their  desires  upon  vanity.  Bless 
the  unfortunate  with  humility,  that  they  may  feel 
Thy  nearness.  Bless  the  wealthy,  tliat  they  may 
not  place  their  hopes  upon  uncertain  riches ;  and 
bless  the  poor,  that  in  the  midst  of  poverty  they 
may  feel  rich  in  Thee.  Reign  over  all  of  us,  and 
lead  us  ;  speak  to  us  and  we  will  hear ;  command 
Thou  and  we  will  obey ;  for  Thine  is  the  kingdom, 
and  the  power ;  and  to  Thee  all  honor  and  glory  are 
due,  from  eternity  to  eternity. 


Our  text  represents  to  us  two  moral  characters, 
which  are  in  direct  opposition  to  each  other.  The 
one  is  that  of  selfishness  and  pride,  the  other  that 
of  humility  and  a  consciousness  of  guilt  before  God. 
The  former  is  exhibited  in  tlie  Pharisee,  the  latter 
in  the  Publican. 

The  Pharisee  blesses  God  because  he  fasts  twice 
a  week  and  pays  the  tenth  of  all  he  has ;  because 
he  is  not  an  extortioner,  not  unjust,  not  an  adul- 
terer; because  he  is  not  as  the  Publican,  but  rather 
better  than  he. 

The  Publican,  on  the  other  hand,  standing  afar 
off,  silent,  his  eyes  cast  down,  seems  to  be  lost  in 
meditation,  and  in  the  feeling  of  his  unworthiness ; 
and  all  that  he  thinks  and  all  that  he  says,  is  ex- 
pressed in  the  sigh  that  rises  deep  from  his  heart : 
"  God  he  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner^ 

8* 


90  THE    HUMILITY    OF 

The  words  both  of  the  Pharisee  and  the  PubUcan 
were  uttered  in  a  'prayer.  Prayer,  whether  uttered 
or  unexpressed,  is  the  immediate  conversation  of 
the  soul  with  God,  by  which  we  acknowledge  that 
God  not  only  hears,  but  also  knows  us.  Whatever 
any  one  says  in  prayer,  may  generally  be  considered 
as  evincing  his  whole  being,  as  expressing  fully 
his  true  thoughts  and  feelings.  For  this  reason  the 
Pharisee  and  the  Publican  are  represented  as  pra}^- 
ing.  In  reading  this  passage,  we  feel  constrained 
therefore  to  believe,  that  the  Pharisee  has  good 
reason  to  consider  himself  free  from  the  crimes  he 
enumerates,  or  else  he  would  not  dare  to  boast 
before  God ;  and  that  the  Publican  has  committed 
some  gross  sins,  or  else  his  prayer  would  betray  a 
false  and  hypocritical  humility,  which  must  dis- 
please Him,  who  can  only  love  truth.  Yet,  whilst 
the  Pharisee  possesses,  in  his  view,  a  legal  righteous- 
ness of  which  he  is  proud,  and  the  Publican  is  a  poor 
and  miserable  sinner,  Christ  says  : 

"  I  tell  you  this  man  went  down  to  his  house 
justified  rather  than  the  other."  And  he  adds  as 
the  reason  :  '•  For  every  one  that  exalteth  himself 
shall  be  abased,  and  he  that  humbleth  himself  shall 
be  exalted." 

The  truth  clearly  contained,  especially  in  the  lat- 
ter words  of  this  passage,  is  simply  this  :  Pride  and 
selfishness  must  cause  a  fall,  but  humility  elevates 
us  to  true  greatness.  The  theme  of  this  discourse 
will   therefore  be  humility,  considered  as  the  only 


1 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  91 

means  of  hecoming  truly  great.  To  prove  this,  I 
shall  show,  in  the  first  place,  the  nature  hoth  of  pride 
and  humility ;  and  secondly :  liov^  each  manifests 
itself  in  life,  and  lohat  results  it  produces. 

I.  It  is  natural,  in  proportion  as  we  become  con- 
scious of  our  talents,  capacities,  and  all  the  advan- 
tages we  possess  really  and  in  truth,  not  only  to 
acknowledge,  but  also  to  love  them ;  and  w^hilst  we 
should  not  exhibit  them  unnecessarily,  neither 
should  we  from  a  false  and  hypocritical  modesty 
conceal  them.  It  is  natural,  too,  to  place  the  proper 
value  upon  them ;  truth  demands  this  of  us;  and  if 
from  a  proud  desire  of  appearing  humble,  we  under- 
value them,  we  wrong  God,  the  Creator  and  Giver 
of  all,  we  wrong  ourselves  and  no  doubt  mistake 
the  proper  use  to  be  made  of  them.  It  is  natural, 
moreover,  that  when  we  look  upon  the  many  noble 
powers  man  possesses,  to  be  struck  with  the  idea, 
that  he  is  destined  for  something  great;  that  as  the 
mode  of  his  existence  differs  from  that  of  everj^  other 
being  on  earth,  so  his  desthiation  after  death  will 
differ  from  that  of  all  the  creatures  of  which  we 
have  any  knowledge.  But  selfishness  or  pride  per- 
verts all  this.  It  not  only  attributes  to  us  faculties 
and  powers  and  good  qualities,  merits  and  advan- 
tages, which  w^e  have  not  at  all,  but  places  also  a 
value  upon  those  we  have,  which  they  do  not 
possess.  It  overlooks  the  blemishes  in  earthly 
beauty,  the   frailty  of   all   human   strength,   the 


92.  THE     HUMILITY     OF 

weakness  of  all  human  power,  and  the  sinfulness 
of  every  virtue,  which  man  aims  at  without  the  aid 
of  a  sanctifying  spirit  from  above.  Pride  makes  us 
forget  God,  who  is  the  author  and  preserver  of  all 
we  possess,  and  prompts  us  to  ascribe  everything 
to  our  own  wisdom  and  skill  and  diligence  and  per- 
severance and  merit.  It  inflates  us  with  a  perfect 
self-satisfliction ;  it  does  not  permit  us  to  perceive 
anything  reproachful  in  ourselves,  for  it  teaches  us 
to  prize  everything  pertaining  to  ourselves,  because 
it  is  part  of  ourselves.  Hence  it  is  that  in  our  own 
estimation,  of  all  decisions  ours  are  the  best ;  of  all 
creeds  ours  is  the  only  true  one ;  of  all  works  ours 
are  most  perfect;  of  all  actions  ours  are  most 
praiseworthy;  and  if  we  should  even  feel  con- 
strained to  acknowledge  some  weaknesses,  pride 
teaches  us  how  to  beautify  and  excuse  them ;  so 
that  in  comparison  with  the  frailties  of  others  ours 
still  retain  the  character  of  virtue.  Thus  wrapt  up 
in  selfishness,  pride  draws  around  us  a  magic  circle 
whose  centre  we  are  ourselves;  and  whatever  is 
beautiful  and  good  is  to  be  found  only  within  it, 
while  all  that  is  without  it  is  less  attractive  and 
lovely. 

From  this  it  will  sufficiently  appear,  that  pride 
never  aims  at  anything  higher  than  what  it  pos- 
sesses already.  If  we  are  satisfied  with  ourselves, 
if  we  imagine  we  are  good  and  perfect,  can  we 
aspire  to  anything  higher  or  desire  to  alter  any- 
thing in  our  character?     If  we  have  already  what 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  93 

we  desire,  if  our  highest  wishes  are  gratified,  and 
we  have  no  sense  of  want,  what  can  give  us  the  im- 
pulse to  seek  for  any  change  ? 

If  it  be  true,  however,  that  even  the  best  of  us, 
Hke  Achilles,  are  vulnerable  in  some  place  or 
other,  that  even  the  best  among  men  are  sinners, 
liable  to  temptations  from  within  and  from  with- 
out, that  all  of  us  share  the  same  dangers  and  the 
same  guilt ; — then  nothing  can  protect  us  from 
destruction,  but  a  higher  power  which  pride  re- 
jects, and  nothing  can  lead  us  to  true  greatness  in 
life  but  humility. 

Humility  bases  itself  upon  a  deep  feeling  of  the 
greatness  of  God,  of  the  perfection  of  all  His  attri- 
butes, upon  a  sense  of  our  own  weakness  and  frailty, 
and  of  our  dependence  on  God  for  everything  we 
possess.  Humility  rests  on  the  conviction,  that 
what  we  possess  and  can  do,  that  what  we  are  and 
effect,  depends  on  Him  who  reigns  over  the  uni- 
verse ;  that  the  body  is  but  dust,  and  with  all  its 
beauty  or  strength  will  soon  be  the  prey  of  death, 
that  it  is  like  a  flower,  which  blooms  to-day  and 
withers  to-morrow.  Humility  rests  on  the  fact, 
that  our  knowledge  is  limited,  our  understanding  is 
surrounded  by  darkness;  that  our  strength  is  easily 
exhausted,  and  that  our  highest  power  can  move 
but  a  few  atoms  in  a  small  space.  But  especially 
does  humility  rest  upon  the  sense  of  guilt  and  sin- 
fulness attending  us  constantly.  We  are  not  only 
w^eak,  but  full  of  sin,  transgressors  of  God's  law ; 


94  THE     HUMILITY    OF 

our  transgressions  are  not  only  many,  but  they  are 
odious  and  full  of  evil  consequences.  We  are  con- 
stantly either  stumbling  or  falling  in  the  path  of 
wickedness;  if  we  do  not  reject  and  violate  the  law 
of  God  in  one  or  the  other  case,  we  obey  it  only 
from  impure  motives,  from  fear  or  hope.  Thus,  by 
holding  up  before  us  the  purity  and  holiness  of  God, 
humility  teaches  us  to  know  ourselves  as  we  are ; 
it  turns  our  eyes  away  from  gazing  on  our  external 
advantages,  and  fixes  them  upon  the  condition  of 
our  hearts.  If  this  be  corrupt,  if  the  fountain  of 
our  feelings  and  thoughts  and  the  soul  of  our  actions 
be  poisoned,  what  flows  forth  from  it,  what  is 
nourished  by  it,  however  beautifully  and  luxu- 
riantly it  may  grow,  cannot  be  great  and  good,  but 
must  bear  the  germ  of  death  and  decay  within. 

It  is  this  knowledge  of  ourselves  which  humility 
gives  us,  that  becomes  not  only  the  means  of  pro- 
ducing a  genuine  reform  and  change  of  heart,  but 
that  also  impels  us  to  go  onward  and  not  to  rest 
satisfied  at  any  point  of  progress  which  we  have 
reached.  Thus  humility  does  not  only  give  us  a  deep 
sense  of  our  deficiencies,  but  impels  us  too,  to  exert 
ourselves  to  remove  them ;  whilst  pride,  self-com- 
placent and  satisfied  with  all  its  attainments,  never 
attempts  a  change  for  the  better,  but  produces  moral 
torpidity  and  lethargy. 

Pride  and  Humility  differ,  further,  in»-the  object 
which  each  desires.  What  is  great  to  the  one  is  little 
to  the  other.  Pride  or  selfishness  considers  anything 


TflE     INNER     LIFE.  95 

great  that  more  than  ordinarily  strikes  and  dazzles  the 
senses,  that  is  connected  with  power  and  honor  be- 
fore the  world  ;  or  that  shines  and  glitters,  attracts 
and  allures  our  sensual  nature.  Pride  considers 
anything  great  that  excites  the  admiration  of 
our  fellow-men  and  raises  us  above  them,  that  ex- 
cites astonishment,  fear,  or  terror ;  as  splendid 
talents,  beauty,  arts,  knowledge,  gold  and  riches, 
thrones  and  principalities,  power  and  influence, 
monuments  of  ancient  heroes  and  the  ruins  of  by- 
gone ages,  wars  and  revolutions,  and  all  terrible 
phenomena  in  nature.  The  greatness  of  pride  is 
therefore  external,  eartlily,  and  transient;  and  if 
ever  it  desires  moral  greatness,  it  is  satisfied  with 
the  external  action ;  it  seeks  to  acquire  it  by  single, 
disconnected,  and  isolated  efforts  that  are  not  united 
internally  by  spirit  or  plan. 

The  greatness  of  humility,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
internal,  heavenly,  and  jpermanent.  Not  the  power 
we  possess  is  great,  nor  the  influence  Vv^e  exert,  but 
the  purpose  by  them  to  effect  something  for  eter- 
nity. Otherwise  both  power  and  influence  are  little 
and  insignificant,  if  compared  with  the  power  and 
efiiciency  of  God.  Not  the  action  we  perform  is 
great,  but  the  will  that  designs  it ;  not  the  honor 
w^e  enjoy  deserves  to  be  called  great,  but  the  merit 
that  renders  us  worthy  of  it.  Not  the  gift  we  offer 
to  the  poor  is  great,  but  the  love  that  disposes  us 
to  offer  it ;  not  the  pressing  of  the  hand  of  an  enemy, 
but  the  meekness  and  mildness  that  moves  the 


9G  THE     HUMILITY     OF 

hand.  It  is  not  the  amount  of  our  knowledge,  nor 
the  degree  of  our  skill  in  art,  nor  the  vigor  of  our 
talents,  that  ia  great,  but  the  benevolent  motive  from 
which  we  acquire  knowledge  and  cultivate  the  arts, 
and  the  benign  purpose  to  which  we  apply  them. 
The  greatness  of  humility  does  not  consist  in  a 
single  action,  isolated  and  by  itself,  nor  in  many 
disconnected  actions,  nor  in  a  regular  series  of 
actions  ; — but  in  that  which  is  the  never-chang- 
ing basis  of  all  actions,  which  is  their  soul  and 
source,  in  a  purified  disposition,  in  a  sanctified 
heart,  in  a  noble  and  generous  will,  that  seeks  only 
that  which  is  good  and  right,  which  agrees  with 
the  will  of  God  and  pleases  Him — in  a  will  that 
seeks  that  which  raises  the  destiny  of  man  and 
brings  him  nearer  to  his  Creator,  and  which  in 
heaven  as  well  as  on  earth,  in  a  future  world  as 
well  as  in  the  present,  before  God  as  well  as  before 
man,  retains  its  unchangeable  value.  This  internal 
greatness  is  the  same,  whether  actions  represent  it 
externally  or  not ;  it  is  an  indivisible  whole  and 
cannot  appear  in  single  actions ;  even  the  best 
action  gives  only  an  unsatisfactory  expression  of  it. 
We  may  succeed  in  exhibiting  learning,  strength, 
skill,  art,  but  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  exhibit 
this  internal  greatness ;  it  is  only  known  to  God, 
and  though  it  constantly  produces  noble  works, 
no  work  is  equal  to  itself.  Hence  humility  strug- 
gles continually  to  harmonize  the  external  with  the 
internal   life,    action   with   feeling,    conduct  with 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  97 

principle,  daily  conversation  in  the  world  with  the 
worship  of  the  sanctuary. 

It  is  evident,  that  the  greatness  of  pride  is  exter- 
nal and  must  sooner  or  later  vanish,  while  that  of 
humility  is  internal  and  will  remain  forever.  There 
can  be  no  doubt,  then,  but  that  pride  leads  off  from 
true  greatness  and  offers  in  its  place  a  phantom,  a 
mere  ignis  fatuiis,  that  shines  and  allures,  but  dis- 
appears as  soon  as  you  approach  to  examine  it. 
Yet  there  is  also  another  difference,  which  though 
of  importance  and  great  influence  on  our  character, 
I  shall  only  mention  in  a  few  words.  Pride  desires 
what  is  great  on  its  own  account  only;  and  filled 
with  a  desire  for  transient  and  perishable  objects, 
it  can  never  be  satisfied,  but  must  always  remain 
little  and  contracted  in  its  character.  Humility  on 
the  other  hand  seeks  all  its  greatness  in  the  honor 
of  God.  It  desires  nothing  on  its  own  account,  but 
wishes  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  greatness  of  God. 
Its  character  must,  therefore,  expand  and  grow  in 
nobleness  in  proportion  as  it  becomes  more  and 
more  conscious  of  this  true  greatness.  It  does  not 
disdain  beauty,  nor  talents,  nor  knowledge,  nor  art, 
nor  skill,  nor  power  and  riches ;  but  it  rejoices  in 
all  of  them,  like  the  pilgrim  rejoices  in  the  flowers 
that  spring  up  on  both  sides  of  his  path.  As  he 
bends  down  with  intense  delight  to  pluck  them,  not 
for  the  purpose  of  keeping  them,  but  of  weaving  them 
into  a  garland  to  hang  around  the  shrine  at  which 
he  worships,  so  humility  rejoices  in  all  it  has,  in 

9 


98  THE     HUMILITY     OF 

all  transient  and  earthly  greatness,  to  honor  by  it 
our  Creator. 

II.  I  shall  now,  in  the  second  place,  show  lioio pride 
and  Inimility  manifest  themselves,  and  for  the  sake 
of  brevity,  leave  my  hearers  to  infer  how  the  for- 
mer is  prejudicial  to  and  the  latter  promotive  of 
true  greatness. 

Our  views  and  feelings,  our  purposes  and  our 
whole  manner  of  thinking,  are  the  fountain  of  all 
our  actions  and  determine  their  moral  value.  These 
motives,  though  they  are  to  the  action  what  the 
soul  is  to  the  body,  are  invisible  and  cannot  be 
judged  of  by  any  one,  except  the  person  who  is  the 
subject  of  them.  Pride,  now,  or  selfishness,  will 
teach  us  to  put  the  best  construction  upon  them,  to 
make  our  impure  motives,  our  selfish  intentions  and 
desires,  our  ignoble  maxims  appear  better  than  they 
are,  to  excuse  them  as  having  resulted  from  the 
unavoidable  weakness  and  imperfection  of  human 
nature,  or  to  beautify  them,  by  calling  our  faults  by 
milder  names.  Voluptuousness  is  but  tenderness ; 
obstinacy  is  firmness  of  character;  parsimony  is 
economy;  calculating  selfishness  or  craftiness  is 
prudence ;  cruelty  is  j  ustice  ;  offensive  coldness  is 
tranquil  reason  ;  an  entire  want  of  charity  is  but 
an  impartiality  of  judgment. 

Humility,  on  the  other  hand,  manifests  itself  in 
an  entirely  different  manner.  It  exhibits  to  us  all 
our  frailties  and  faults  with  all  their  consequences ; 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  99 

it  does  not  induce  iis  to  deny  nor  to  excuse  them, 
but  to  acknowledge  them.  It  shows  that  the 
cause  of  our  fiiults  is  not  without,  not  in  circum- 
stances, not  in  other  persons,  but  in  us  ;  that  it  is 
our  own  neglect,  a  want  of  attention  or  devotion. 

Again  :  Pride  manifests  itself  by  giving  us  a  feel- 
ing of  entire  security. 

It  causes  us  to  rely  on  our  own  strength  and 
wisdom,  and  to  despise  all  temptation  and  dangers. 
Deceived  by  it,  we  soon  reach  the  highest  point  of 
security,  where,  overvaluing  our  moral  powers,  we 
no  longer  suspect  ourselves  nor  fear  anything 
around  us.  Then  we  neither  notice  the  danger 
and  temptation,  which  accompany  external  impres- 
sions upon  us ;  nor  flee  the  opportunity  of  doing 
evil ;  nor  shun  the  snares,  which  are  strewed  around 
us  by  passion,  by  habit,  by  society,  by  a  combina- 
tion of  circumstances,  by  the  bustle  of  the  world,  and 
by  the  silence  of  the  house.  Everywhere  we  are 
exposed  to  temptations,  and  all  within  us  is  sus- 
ceptible of  being  affected  by  these  temptations ;  the 
excitability  of  youth  and  the  dulness  of  age ;  the 
zeal  with  which  we  undertake  a  benevolent  scheme, 
and  the  caution  with  which  we  execute  it ;  every 
state  and  character  has  its  corresponding  tempta- 
tions, and  we  must  be  constantly  on  our  guard  ; — 
but  pride  w^ill  not  suffer  us  to  acknowledge  this 
truth ;  it  blinds  us  so  that  though  on  the  brink  of 
an  abyss,  we  do  not  see  danger,  but  plunge  into  it. 

Humility,  on  the  other  hand,  keeps  constantly 


100    •  THE     HUMILITY     OF 

awake  in  us  the  consciousness  of  our  weakness  and 
frailty.  It  reminds  us  of  every  error  we  have 
committed  ;  it  represents  to  us,  how  we  have  either 
neglected  or  violated  a  duty,  have  left  works  un- 
finished, failed  in  our  plans,  or  have  grown  cold  in 
our  zeal.  This  consciousness  of  our  weakness  for- 
bids us  to  consider  ourselves  stronger  than  we  are, 
to  risk  more  than  we  can  perform.  It  awakens  a 
just  suspicion  against  ourselves,  teaches  us  to  avoid 
all  danger,  to  resist  resolutely  the  first  temptation, 
to  be  cautious  in  everything,  to  watch  over  our 
hearts  and  give  an  account  of  every  impression, 
that  old  or  new  acquaintances,  known  or  unknown, 
near  or  distant  objects,  make  upon  us.  It  is  this 
consciousness  that  inclines  our  ears  to  listen  to 
advice ;  that  makes  us  grateful  for  every  admoni- 
tion of  friends  or  enemies,  that  disposes  us  to  ask 
for  the  assistance  of  all  our  companions  in  conquer- 
ing our  evil  propensities.  Thus  watching  over  our- 
selves, over  all  our  feelings,  and  views,  and  motives, 
over  all  the  changes  that  take  place  in  us,  we  shall 
grow  in  virtue,  and  piety,  and  greatness;  yet  we 
will  ascribe  all  honor  not  to  ourselves,  but  to  Christ ; 
for  all  the  aid  we  receive,  every  word  that  warns, 
every  hand  that  protects  us,  we  cannot  help  con- 
sidering as  marks  of  divine  grace  and  goodness. 

Again  :  Pride,  placing  too  high  a  value  upon 
our  own  actions,  renders  us  satisfied  with  what  we 
have  done,  while  humility  constantly  impels  and 
urges  us  to  strive  after  higher  wisdom  and  greatness. 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  101 

The  Pharisee  fasts  twice  a  week  and  pa3^s  the 
tenth  of  all  he  has;  these  actions  are  externally 
good  enough,  though  they  may  be  mere  ceremonies, 
forms,  without  the  spirit  which  should  produce 
them ; — 3'et  the  Pharisee  places  such  a  value  upon 
them,  that  he  feels  satisfied  with  himself.  Every 
deed  is  in  the  eye  of  pride  an  heroic  deed ;  every 
virtue  one  of  the  highest ;  every  victory  we  gain 
over  ourselves,  a  proof  of  an  uncommon  strength 
of  character  and  mind.  Pride  imagines  that  it 
has  reached  the  goal,  when  it  has  but  begun  the 
race.  If  pride  however  should  discover  the  same 
good  qualities  in  another,  they  would  appear  insig- 
nificant. Yet  great  as  everything  that  is  good  in 
us  is  to  pride,  so  small  also  and  unworthy  of  notice 
are  the  many  immoral  and  sinful  propensities  we 
have.  Though  we  may  practice  all  kinds  of  injus- 
tice, be  given  to  avarice  and  ambition,  indulge 
envy  and  jealousy — if  we  have  but  o?iegood  quality, 
it  will  be  sufiicient  to  assuage  our  conscience  and 
overshadow  all  our  corruptions.  Hence  it  is,  that 
pride  placing  too  high  a  value  upon  our  own  actions, 
feels  satisfied  with  itself  and  relies  on  its  own 
righteousness. 

Humility,  on  the  other  hand,  is  never  satisfied 
with  any  work  or  with  any  action,  that  may  appear 
great  or  good  to  the  world.  Surrounded  by  the 
light  of  grace,  the  feeling  of  our  unworthiness  must 
daily  grow  stronger,  our  desire  for  divine  assistance 

9* 


102  THE     HUMILITY    OF 

greater,  our  repentance  on  account  of  sin  more 
sincere.  But  what  things  were  gain  to  me,  those  I 
counted  loss  for  Christ;  yea,  doubtless,  and  I  count 
all  things  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ  Jesus,  my  Lord  ;  for  whom  I  have 
suffered  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do  count  them  but 
dung  that  I  may  win  Christ  and  be  found  in 
Him,  not  having  mine  own  righteousness,  which  is 
of  the  law,  but  that  which  is  through  the  faith  of 
Christ,  the  righteousness  which  is  of  God  by  faith, 
(Phil.  3  :  7-9.)  Humility  acknowledges  in  Christ 
all-purifying  power ;  to  Him  it  looks  up  in 
the  hour  of  danger ;  from  Him  it  hopes  to  receive 
the  impulse  to  good  resolutions,  and  the  strength 
to  execute  them ;  to  Him  it  prays  for  power  to 
bear  up  under  misfortunes  and  to  go  from  one 
degree  of  perfection  to  another ;  and  always  says  : 
I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  which  strength- 
eneth  me ;  and  whatever  is  good  in  my  actions  is  His 
and  not  mine. 

Finally :  Pride  induces  us  to  disparage  our  fellow- 
men  and  overrate  ourselves  in  comparison  with 
them. 

To  see  what  we  are,  we  must  frequently  look 
upon  others  and  see  what  they  are ;  and  to  know 
them  we  must  look  into  our  own  hearts.  Alone, 
entirely  alone,  no  man  would  be  able  to  become 
acquainted  with  himself.  Yet  pride  does  not  suffer 
us  to  compare  ourselves  with  those  that  are  better 
than  ourselves,   but  only  with   those    whom   we 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  103 

know  to  be  inferior,  with  robbers,  extortioners, 
adulterers,  and  publicans.  If  however  we  meet 
with  some  excellencies  in  others,  that  we  do  not 
possess,  pride  will  induce  us  to  detract  from  their 
moral  value  in  order  to  bring  them  down  to  a  level 
with  our  own. 

Humility,  on  the  other  hand,  points  out  as  the 
only  proper  object  of  comparison,  not  one  of  our 
fellow-men,  but  Christ  our  Saviour ;  His  life,  so 
richly  adorned  with  all  good  works,  His  sufferings 
and  death,  so  beautifully  evincing  His  divine  love 
and  holiness.  Christ  is  the  ideal  of  all  the  endea- 
vors of  an  humble  Christian ;  all  he  does,  however 
great  it  may  appear  to  the  world,  will  be  insignifi- 
cant and  sinful,  when  compared  with  what  Christ 
has  done,  whose  only  meat  and  drink  it  was  to  do 
the  will  of  His  Father ;  who  spent  His  life  and  His 
strength  for  us,  who  like  the  sun,  spread  joy  and 
happiness  and  life  everlasting,  whithersoever  He 
went,  who  considered  no  work  too  low,  and  no 
labor  too  condescending.  The  humble  Christian, 
comparing  his  life  with  that  of  Christ,  looks  at  the 
holiness  and  love  and  perfections  of  Christ  as  the 
goal  of  his  race  ;  whatever  lies  below  that  is  neither 
truly  great  nor  desirable.  Nor  does  the  contrast 
which  he  perceives  between  himself  and  the  perfec- 
tions of  Christ,  discourage  him,  for  he  relies  on 
Divine  grace,  and  this  reliance  excites  him  to  con- 
stantly renewed  efforts,  revives  his  strength, 
increases  his  zeal,  and  carries  him  steadily  onward. 


104  THE     HUMILITY    OF 

He  is  like  a  traveller  who  intends  ascending  the 
top  of  a  high  mountain  for  the  purpose  of  seeing 
the  sun  set  in  all  his  splendor  and  glory.  He  passes 
through  quiet  and  lovely  valleys ;  here  a  little 
rivulet  invites  him  by  its  murmuring  waters  to 
sink  down  and  rest  himself,  and  there  swelling  banks 
of  moss  offer  him  an  agreeable  seat ;  yet  he  goes  on, 
having  the  end  of  his  journey  in  view.  He  passes 
through  green  and  dark  woods,  that  animated  by 
the  songs  of  birds  and  cooled  by  the  refreshing 
breezes  rustling  among  the  leaves  and  branches, 
urge  him  to  lie  down  under  the  shady  trees 
and  enjoy  himself : — but  he  keeps  the  end  of  his 
journey  in  view,  and  pursues  his  way  unmindful  of 
his  fatisrue.  At  lensrth  he  arrives  at  the  desired 
spot;  he  sees  the  glory  of  the  setting  sun  ;  he  reviews 
the  road  over  which  he  has  come;  he  looks  with 
delight  upon  the  smiling  landscape  behind  him ;  and 
rejoices  in  the  idea,  that  he  was  able  to  withstand 
all  temptations  to  give  over  the  execution  of  his 
purpose.  Such  a  traveller  is  the  Christian.  No 
deprivation,  no  self-denial,  no  pleasure,  and  no 
advantageous  comparison  with  others,  can  allure  or 
decoy  him ;  he  goes  on  not  as  though  he  had  already 
attained,  either  were  already  perfect ;  but  he  follows 
after  if  that  he  may  apprehend  that,  for  which 
also  he  is  apprehended  of  Christ  Jesus  ;  forgetting 
those  things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth 
unto  those  things  which  are  before,  he  presses 
toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  105 

of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  (Phil.  3 :  12-14)  :  he 
presses  forward  to  the  end  of  his  pilgrimage  and 
ceases  never ;  and  the  setting  sun  of  his  life  on  earth 
will  be  to  him  the  rising  sun  of  eternity. 

Let  us  now  endeavor  to  turn  the  whole  subject 
to  some  practical  account. 

Humility,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  only  means  of 
effecting  anything  in  life  worthy  of  our  high  calling; 
it  is  important,  therefore,  that  we  strive  with  all 
our  might  to  be  in  possession  of  it. 

1.  To  cultivate  humility  we  must,  above  all,  seek 
to  become  acquainted  with  our  faults  and  frailties. 
Though  it  is  not  agreeable  to  search  for  them,  they 
will  not  cease  to  be  faults  and  frailties,  because  we 
conceal  them  from  ourselves  ;  nor  will  they  be  less 
injurious  to  true  greatness,  because  w^e  imagine  our- 
selves free  from  them. 

2.  We  must  close  our  ears  to  flattery,  and  keep 
them  open  to  the  admonitions  of  friends.  We  feel 
much  inclined  to  explain  both  praise  and  reproach 
to  our  advantage.  Not  only  do  we  believe  praise 
to  be  fully  true  and  reproach  to  be  ungrounded,  but 
also  that  by  the  former  less  was  said  than  really 
was  meant;  and  by  the  latter  more.  The  high 
opinion  we  have  of  ourselves,  will  naturally,  on  the 
one  hand,  make  us  believe  that  we  deserve  all  the 
praise  bestowed  upon  us,  and  on  the  other,  that 
every  reproach  or  reprimand  is  uncalled  for.  Hence, 


106  THE    HUMILITY    OF 

whatever  is  intended  as  an  admonition  by  parents, 
or  teachers,  or  friends,  is  offensive  and  insulting  to 
our  aspiring  mind  ;  does  not  instruct,  but  embitters 
us  ;  does  not  convince  us,  but  arouses  our  indigna- 
tion ;  does  not  correct  our  mistakes,  but  only  con- 
firms us  in  them.  To  become  humble,  we  must  not 
only  be  willing  to  have  others  point  out  our  faults, 
but  we  must  be  thankful  to  them  for  doing  so,  even 
though  their  eyes  should  be  sharpened  by  envy,  or 
jealousy,  or  ambition,  and  though  their  manner 
should  not  be  charitable. 

3.  We  must  examine  closely  those  qualities  in 
us,  which  we  are  in  the  habit  of  considering  good. 
Perhaps  they  are  so,  externally ;  but  then  let  us  ask 
in  how  far  we  owe  the  possession  of  them,  either  to 
circumstances  that  a  kind  providence  has  placed 
around  us,  to  early  education,  to  good  examples,  or 
to  the  immediate  gift  of  God — and  we  shall  soon 
discover  how  little  merit  we  possess  ourselves. 
Others,  circumstanced  as  we,  endowed  with  the 
same  talents,  would  have  effected  much  more  than 
we  have  done ;  though  we  might  surpass  them  ex- 
ternally, in  true  internal  greatness  we  would  be 
below  them.  But,  perhaps,  these  qualities  are  even 
not  as  good  as  we  take  them  to  be ;  perhaps  they  rest 
on  a  selfish,  proud,  and  corrupt  basis,  on  a  refined 
calculation  of  their  use  and  worldly  benefit  to  us  ; 
perhaps  they  stand  by  the  side  of  hate,  and  avarice, 
and  ambition ;  then,  a  close  examination  will  re- 
veal to  us  the  utter  absence  of  goodness  in  them. 


THE     INNER     LIEE.  107 

and  force  us  to  feel  humble,  inste<acl  of  being  proud ; 
to  feel  guilty,  instead  of  self-righteous ;  to  see  sin  and 
wickedness  in  us,  instead  of  virtue  and  goodness. 

4.  To  become  humble,  we  must  learn  to  endure 
contradictions  from  others.  Contradiction  is  an 
element  of  that  process  by  which  we  attain  to  the 
knowledge  of  truth,  both  moral  and  religious.  It 
is  contradiction  that  shows  us,  too,  how  much  less 
our  authority,  our  importance,  our  influence  is,  than 
we  may  have  imagined ;  how  much  we  must  free 
ourselves  yet  from  vanity ;  how  much  we  must 
labor  and  pray  for  divine  assistance  in  our  endea- 
vors to  acquire  true,  in  a  word,  godhj  greatness  of 
character. 

5.  Finally,  to  become  humble  we  must  consider 
it  a  truth  established  beyond  doubt,  that  whenever 
we  feel  no  kind  of  uneasiness  concerning  the  state 
of  our  souls  or  concerning  our  character,  we  are 
truly  in  great  danger.  There  is  no  one  who  has 
not  daily,  yea  hourly  cause  to  exclaim :  God  be 
merciful  to  me,  a  sinner.  If  any  one  should  never- 
theless be  able  to  say  :  I  thank  thee.  Lord,  that  I 
am  better  than  other  men,  he  would  deceive  him- 
self. In  proportion  as  we  become  greater  in  virtue, 
will  we  see  the  ideal  of  true  greatness  more  dis- 
tinctly, and  perceive  more  clearly  how  far  oif  we 
are  from  it.  The  more  tender  our  conscience  grows 
by  a  holy  desire  to  be  good,  the  more  odious  will 
even  the  smallest  offence  appear  to  us.    Entire  self- 


108        THE     HUMILITY    OF     THE     INNER     LIFE. 

satisfaction  is  therefore  the  surest  sign  of  entire 
unworthiness  and  of  great  danger. 

May  God  put  it  into  the  heart  of  every  one  pre- 
sent, to  strive  above  all  after  humility,  as  the  prin- 
cipal means  of  rendering  his  life  on  earth  useful 
both  to  himself  and  to  his  fellow-men  ;  and  may 
this  endeavor  ground  itself  in  the  conviction  that 
as  we  depend  upon  God  for  life  and  existence,  for 
support  and  strength,  so  we  depend  upon  Him  also 
for  a  change  of  heart,  for  every  good  feeling  we 
may  cherish,  for  every  good  resolution  we  may 
adopt,  and  for  every  good  action  and  work  we  may 
perform.     Amen. 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE  AT 
JACOB'S  WELL. 

Jonx  4  :  10-15. 

"  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her,  If  thou  knewest  the  gift  of  God, 
and  who  it  is  that  saith  to  thee,  Give  me  to  drink,  thou  wouldst  have 
asked  of  him,  and  he  would  have  given  thee  living  water.  The  woman 
saith  unto  him,  Sir,  thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with,  and  the  well  is 
deep  :  from  whence  then  hast  thou  that  living  water?  Art  thou  greater 
than  our  fixther  Jacob,  which  gave  us  the  well,  and  drank  thereof  himself, 
and  his  children  and  his  cattle  ?  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her, 
Whosoever  drinketh  of  this  water  shall  thirst  again  ;  but  whosoever 
drinketh  of  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him,  shall  never  thirst ;  but  the 
water  that  I  shall  give  him,  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water  springing 
up  into  everlasting  life.  The  woman  saith  unto  him,  Sir,  give  me  this 
water,  that  I  thirst  not,  neither  come  hither  to  di-aw." 

Our  life  consists  of  two  parts.  One  part,  the 
visible,  chains  us  to  the  dust; — the  other,  the  invi- 
sible, raises  us  beyond  the  skies.  We  have  some 
necessities,  which  remind  us  that  we  are  dust  and 
ashes ; — we  have  others,  which  convince  us  that  a 
heaven-born  spirit  lives  in  us.  The  heaven-born 
spirit  in  us  strives  heavenward,  strives  after  perfect 
freedom — after  independence  of  everything  on  earth 
— after  union  with  its  Creator — after  uninterrupted 
happiness  :  but  as  the  outstretched  wings  of  the 
ostrich  are  drawn  down  again  to  the  earth  by  its 
heavy  body,  so  is  our  higher  nature  drawn  down 
by  our  sensual  desires  and  wants.    As  in  the  dawn 

10 


110       THE     AUTHOR    OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

of  the  morning,  light  and  darkness  are  blended,  so 
our  sensual  wants  and  spiritual  desires  commingle; 
and  this  state  of  twilight  frequently'  prevents  us 
from  seeing  the  pure  and  unmixed  light  of  truth. 

These  remarks  we  find  verified  in  the  Samaritan 
woman,  with  whom  our  Lord  entered  into  a  con- 
versation at  Jacob's  well.  Her  spirit  partly  under- 
stands Christ; — her  sensual  nature  causes  her  to 
mistake  his  words.  They  sound  to  her  heart  like 
tones  from  a  higher  region,  and  she  exclaims  : 
"  Give  me  this  water  that  I  thirst  not."  But 
scarcely  has  she  spoken  these  w^ords,  when  she 
adds :  "  neither  come  hither  to  draw." 

Thus,  by  our  sensual  nature,  it  becomes  difiicult 
for  us  to  understand  the  opportunities  which  we 
frequently  have,  to  drink  of  that  living  water, 
which  quenches  all  thirst  forever.  I  shall  endeavor, 
in  accordance  with  the  meaning  of  the  text,  to 
point  out  both  this  difficulty  and  the  nature  of  the 
living  water,  which  springs  up  into  everlasting  life. 
We  will  consider — 

1.  Wlmt  is  meant  hy  the  icorcls — tJie  gift  of  God. 

2.  TJie  dijjiculiy  of  acknowledging  the  gift  of  God. 

3.  The  nature  of  ilie  living  icater,  of  lohich  Christ 
speaks. 

I.  The  gift  of  God,  of  which  Christ  speaks,  can- 
not be  His  i^erson,  for  He  adds  :  "  and  if  thou  knew- 
est  wdio  it  is  that  saith  to  thee.  Give  me  to  drink." 
It  cannot  be  Christ's  doctrine,  for  He  has  not  yet 


AT   Jacob's   avell.  Ill 

given  it  to  the  woman.  The  gift  of  God,  in  this 
place,  is  simply  the  opportunity  offered  to  the  wo- 
man, to  see  and  to  hear  Christ  and  to  learn  of  Him. 
This  opportunity  our  Saviour  calls  tlie  gift  of  God. 
And  a  gift  of  God  it  was,  like  every  other  opportu- 
nity. It  was  not  the  work  of  the  Samaritan  woman 
that  our  Redeemer  just  then  passed  through  Galilee ; 
nor  is  it  ever  our  work,  when  of  many ^9ossi6/e  coin- 
cidences just  the  one  and  no  other  takes  place, 
which  suits  our  life  best.  All  that  we  can  do,  is 
to  accommodate  our  calculations  for  the  future 
to  what  the  present  seems  to  indicate,  and  to 
make  the  best  use  of  what  each  moment  may  offer 
us.  But  to  call  into  existence  what  as  3^et  is  not,  to 
mould  the  future,  which  to  our  eye  is  shrouded  in 
darkness,  for  our  designs,  or  to  create  favorable 
circumstances — this  is  beyond  our  power.  If  we 
could  do  this,  we  would  compel  the  whole  system 
of  the  world  to  serve  the  wishes  of  a  feeble  and  frail 
creature. 

The  opportunity  is  called  a  gift  of  God,  because 
it  is  a  precious  and  gracious  favor  of  our  Creator. 
How  many  went  from  distant  countries  to  Judea, 
to  see  Him,  whose  fame  had  filled  the  world,  and 
perhaps  did  not  see  Him,  or  if  they  saw  Him,  met 
Him  when  surrounded  by  thousands.  The  Samari- 
tan woman  meets  Him  alone  at  the  fountain.  She 
receives  the  blessing,  without  seeking  for  it.  The 
fruit  falls  down  from  the  tree,  fresh  and  juicy,  with- 
out being  shaken.     What  labor    could  not  have 


112      THE    AUTHOR    OF    THE    INNER    LIFE 

obtained  J  the  opportunity  gives  gratuitously.  A 
walk  which  she  took  daily,  and  which  was  always 
the  same  tedious  repetition  of  the  same  thing, 
abounds  this  time  in  divine  favor.  Thus  the  op- 
portunity frequently  offers  what  neither  labor,  nor 
ingenuity,  nor  calculation,  nor  wishes,  nor  prayers, 
nor  designs  could  have  effected.  The  opportunity 
gives  it  without  labor  on  our  part,  and  in  a 
moment. 

The  opportunity  is  not  only  a  gift  of  God,  but 
it  also  leads  our  minds  up  to  God.  The  Samari- 
tan woman  had  gone  to  draw  water  to  quench  her 
natural  thirst,  but  instead  of  this,  living  water  is 
offered  to  her,  which  springs  up  into  everlasting  life. 
There  is  no  doubt,  but  happy  circumstances  of  every 
kind  may  exert  a  favorable  influence  on  our  souls 
and  are  likely  to  exert  it,  if  we  are  good  men.  But 
sometimes  it  appears  as  if  these  circumstances  were 
designed  and  particularly  created  to  operate  favor- 
ably on  our  salvation.  Without  seeking,  without 
praying,  a  beam  of  light,  a  stream  of  power,  a  breath 
of  life  may  fall  upon  our  hearts,  just  when  we  are 
in  great  danger  of  committing  a  sin,  or  of  making  a 
mistake ;  suddenly,  unexpectedly,  we  are  strength- 
ened ;  our  reason  sees  more  clearly  ;  our  will  receives 
a  new  direction,  more  noble,  more  dignified,  and 
our  whole  life  is  benefited  in  one  single  moment. 
Such  an  opportunity,  such  fixvorable  circumstances, 
we  call  a  gift  of  God,  a  precious,  a  special  favor  of 
our  Creator. 


AT    JACOB'S    WELL.  113 

II.  Bat  it  is  difficult  to  understand  our  opportu- 
nity and  make  a  proper  use  of  it.  As  glittering 
gold  in  the  hand  of  the  magician  is  changed  into 
useless  charcoal,  before  we  can  touch  it,  so  may 
favorable  circumstances  change  and  assume  an 
opposite  character,  before  we  have  improved  them. 

To  understand  our  opportunity  means  to  use  it 
without  defay;  to  perceive  how  the  present  cir- 
cumstances are  adapted  to  our  situation,  to  our 
wishes,  to  our  designs;  to  hear  in  them  a  call, 
coming  from  God,  who  will  assist  us  in  the  work 
we  have  before  us,  who  will  lead  us  to  connections, 
to  possessions,  to  enjoyments,  which,  without  such 
circumstances,  we  would  not  be  able  to  obtain.  It 
is  to  feel  that  we  are  under  obligations,  to  use 
that  most  carefully  to  realize  the  destination  of  our 
life,  w^iich  is  best  calculated  to  facilitate  our  labor. 
To  understand  our  opportunity  means,  to  eternize 
the  favorable  moment,  at  least  in  its  effects, 
since  it  is  itself  fleeting,  and  since  we  cannot  retard 
the  wheel  of  time,  which  rolls  on  without  inter- 
mission. The  condition,  constitution,  and  destiny 
of  every  man  has  something  peculiar  to  itself, 
and  circumstances  favorable  to  one  may  not  be  so 
to  another.  We  must  therefore  not  expect  that 
our  opportunity  will  be  just  the  same  as  that, 
which  another  has  had,  but  every  man  has  an  op- 
portunity peculiar  to  himself  and  to  his  situation. 
To  understand  our  opportunity  means,  therefore, 
to   direct  our  whole    attention  to  whatever  may 

10* 


114       THE    AUTHOR    OF    THE    INNER    LIFE 

ripen  for  us  in  the  bosom  of  time  ;  to  whatever  may 
be  advantageous  to  our  welfare,  in  time  and  eter- 
nity, be  it  small  or  great,  here  or  there,  now  or 
hereafter. 

Hence  it  is  necessary  to  watch  our  opportunity. 
Favorable  circumstances,  fortunate  junctures, 
happy  occurrences,  are  for  the  life  of  man  what 
good  weather  is  for  the  husbandman.  If  the  weather 
is  good  and  clear,  the  grain  ripens  quickly,  and 
without  care  or  trouble,  the  laborers  go  forth  cheer-- 
fully  and  joyfully  to  reap  it.  Thus  it  is  when 
Providence  smiles  upon  us.  Then  the  right  thoughts 
come  easily.  Then  Ave  enter  the  right  way  without 
difficulty ;  then  what  we  need  falls  into  our  hands. 
Labor  requires  no  reflection,  and  succeeds  never- 
theless. What  at  other  times  would  bring  us  loss, 
now  brings  us  gain.  But  these  moments  are  but  short, 
and  pass  by  rapidly.  The  state  of  favorable  cir- 
cumstances which  we  might  improve,  changes  sud- 
denly, and  then  the  opportunity  is  gone.  Nor  do 
these  favors  of  Providence  return  very  frequently. 
They  are  rare,  and  sometimes  present  themselves 
but  once  throughout  our  whole  life.  To  lose  them 
once  is  to  lose  them  forever.  How  much  then  de- 
pends on  the  understanding  of  our  opportunity  for 
our  own  peace,  for  our  happiness,  and  that  of  our 
connections,  for  the  success  of  our  activity,  and  even 
for  the  salvation  of  our  souls! 

But  it  is  difficult  to  understand  our  opportunity, 
or   to  discern  the  circumstances  favorable  to   us. 


AT  Jacob's  well.  115 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men,  which,  taken 
at  its  height,  leads  on  to  fortune.  Such  a  tide  oc- 
curs in  the  affairs  of  all  men,  but  they  are  not 
always  prepared  to  take  it  at  its  height.  An  op- 
portunity sometimes  suprises  us  in  an  unfavorable 
moment,  when  we  feel  fatigued,  or  when  we  are 
too  much  excited  or  overcome  by  passion.  We  then 
cannot  discern  quickly  nor  reflect  coolly.  At  other 
times  the  opportunity  seems  to  be  something  diffe- 
rent from  what  it  really  is.  What  has  a  tendency 
to  relieve  us  may  appear  as  a  source  of  embarrass- 
ment. What  is  intended  to  revive  us  may  appear 
to  be  like  a  damper  on  our  spirits.  Gain  may  look 
like  loss.  Means  to  deliver  our  souls  from  their 
reproachful  chains  may  look  like  another  fetter. 
Children  whom  we  teach,  and  from  whom  we  would 
never  expect  instruction,  may  give  us  an  impulse 
to  piety.  An  apparent  misfortune  may  be  instru- 
mental in  bringing  about  our  eternal  salvation  and 
happiness. 

Thus  Christ  appears  before  the  Samaritan  woman 
without  any  signs  of  distinction,  like  a  common  man 
in  form  and  habit,  solitary,  without  pretence  to 
power  or  might,  a  Jew,  one  that  belongs  to  that 
nation  which  hated  the  Samaritans,  and  carefully 
avoided  all  intercourse  with  them.  And  yet  so  poor 
in  His  appearance,  Christ,  the  Saviour,  presented 
Himself  to  her, 

0!  that  our  hearts  may  be  pure,  and  our  will  be 
sanctified,  that  in  every  occurrence  of  life  we  may 


116       THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

perceive  the  hand  of  God,  and  consider  nothing  as 
unimportant;  that  we  may  also  remember  our  home 
bej^ond  the  skies,  and  bring  everything  with  which 
we  come  into  contact,  into  a  relation  to  our  eternal 
destination !  Then  shall  we  never  have  cause  for 
the  complaint,  that  our  opportunity,  which  no  grief 
and  no  repentance  can  recall,  has  passed  by  unim- 
proved. 

III.  We  ask,  in  the  third  place,  what  was  the 
peculiar  nature  of  the  living  water,  which  the  Sa- 
maritan woman  had  an  opportunity  to  ask  Christ  for  ? 
And  here  v/e  shall  find,  that  it  has  two  peculiar  and 
l^rincipal  qualities.  The  one  is  this:  it  does  not 
only  refresh  ua  when  we  are  thirsty,  like  all  other 
water,  but  it  satisfies  our  thirst  entirely,  and  so 
that  we  shall  never  thirst  again.  The  other  is  that, 
being  living  water,  it  has  a  creative  power;  it  renews 
our  whole  existence.  As  a  spark  falling  upon  a 
combustible  substance  kindles  a  new  flame  like  the 
one  from  which  it  came,  so  the  living  water  when 
received,  becomes  a  fountain  in  us  springing  up  into 
eternity. 

But  how  can  it  quench  the  thirst  forever?  Does 
not  every  one  of  us  ask  thus? 

It  satisfies  our  thirst  forever,  because  it  is  pure 
and  unmixed.  In  the  world  we  see  commingled 
strength  and  weakness,  virtue  and  vice,  truth  and 
error,  joy  and  sorrow,  rest  and  fatigue,  hope  and 
despair,  light  and  darkness,  life  and  death.     There 


AT   Jacob's  well.  117 

is  nothing  pure,  and  nothing  perfect;  everything 
has  its  wants,  and  every  gratification  leaves  some 
uneasiness  in  our  mind  from  which  new  wants  and 
new  desires  may  arise  again ;  like  the  fabled  Phoenix 
which  never  dies,  but  always  revives  from  its  own 
ashes. 

The  living  water  satisfies  our  thirst  forever,  be- 
cause it  is  alicaijs  rich  and  always  clieering,  gives  us 
what  we  need,  and  satisfies  us  whenever  w^e  enjoy 
anything  through  it.  In  the  world  you  can  some- 
times not  obtain  what  you  need  most,  and  fre- 
quently Avhilst  you  are  surrounded  by  abundance 
you  can  make  no  use  of  it;  like  Tantalus,  before 
whose  scorched  lips  the  w^aters  that  play  around 
his  chin,  retire  as  soon  as  he  bends  his  head  to 
drink  of  them. 

The  living  water  quenches  our  thirst  forever, 
because  it  flows  freely  and  eternally.  In  the  world 
many  pleasures  are  unnatural,  and  forced  upon  our 
appetites ;  knowledge  and  virtue,  good  works  and 
honors,  festivals  and  amusements,  are  mostly  or 
ever  short-lived  and  frail — the  products  of  time  and 
its  victims.  And  even  the  sources  of  all  our  earthly 
enjoyments  frequently  dry  up  and  disappear  en- 
tirely. 

The  living  water  satisfies  our  thirst  forever,  be- 
cause it  blesses  those  that  drink  it ;  because  it  fills 
our  souls  with  the  peace  of  God,  that  surpasses  all 
knowledge ;  because  it  secures  to  us  our  eternal  salva- 
tion, and  frees  us  from  all  fear,  from  all  care,  from  all 
trouble,  from  all  anxiety;  raises  our  minds  up  be- 


118      THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE. 

yond  the  skies;  purifies  our  feelings;  sanctifies  our 
will;  makes  us  seek  for  what  is  eternal,  and  scorn 
what  is  merely  frail,  and  vain,  and  decaying. 

It  satisfies  our  thirst  forever,  because,  finally,  it 
becomes  a  living  fountain,  in  us,  springing  up  into 
everlasting  life.  Let  us  follow  up  this  idea  for  a 
moment. 

What  is  it  that  men  thirst  very  much  for?  Men 
thirst  for  strength  or  power,  that  they  may  use  it 
according  to  their  circumstances,  according  to  their 
wishes,  and  according  to  their  sphere  of  action. 
Whoever  drinks  of  the  living  water,  receives  that 
strength,  which  as  a  supreme  power  within  excites 
and  directs  all  his  faculties  and  talents  to  the  glory 
of  God — which  unites  all  his  scattered  energies  in 
the  service  of  our  Lord.  Strength,  derived  from 
the  living  water,  is  the  consciousness  of  our  divine 
origin — of  protection  by  our  Saviour  in  all  our 
troubles  and  tribulations  and  dangers — of  the 
entire  independence  of  our  free  souls  on  any  power 
or  force  or  might  on  earth.  Whilst  every  other 
kind  of  strength  is  diminished  or  even  annihilated 
by  fatigue  and  exhaustion,  this  strength  increases 
by  struggles,  and  never  changes,  except  when  it 
gains  in  energy. 

Men  thirst  for  the  greatest  amount  of  know- 
ledge and  experience,  acquired  by  their  own  obser- 
vation and  the  observation  of*  others.  Through 
Christ  we  receive  that  knowledge  which  alone  can 
satisfy  the  longings  of  the  spirit.     The  knowledge 


AT    .TACOTr.S     WELL  110 

of  Christ  reveals  to  us  the  secret  of  our  life,  our 
destiny  after  death,  and  guides  us  through  this 
dark  and  desolate  world  as  the  polar  star  guides 
the  sailor  on  the  pathless  ocean.  It  is  this  know- 
ledge that  gives  value  to  all  other  knowledge. 
Without  it,  all  our  wisdom  is  encircled  by  time  and 
space,  and  in  time  and  in  space  it  must  perish ; — 
icWi  it,  all  our  knowledge  enters  into  relation  to 
eternity  and  partakes  of  its  nature. 

Men  desire  a  good  name ;  tliey  frequently  wish, 
by  the  observance  of  what  is  upright  and  honest,  to 
be  regarded  by  their  families  and  by  their  neigh- 
bors, as  models  of  virtue.  It  is,  however,  only 
through  the  living  water  of  Christ,  that  we  may 
become  really  virtuous.  Real  virtue  is  that  holy 
disposition  of  heart  to  do  what  is  right  from  no  other 
motive  and  for  no  other  purpose,  than  because  it  is 
right — because  we  love  the  law  of  God.  This  dis- 
position regulates  our  thoughts,  elevates  our  feel- 
ings, determines  our  actions,  and  directs  our  minds 
constantly  to  the  will  of  our  Creator. 

Men  desire  enjoyments,  derived  from  social  inter- 
course, from  the  beauties  of  nature,  from  art,  from 
science,  from  the  favor  of  fortune.  But  these  are 
unsatisfying.  From  the  living  water  of  Christ 
flows  that  joy,  which  is  an  uninterrupted  feeling  of 
well-being,  a  feeling  of  security,  of  happiness,  that 
can  never  end.  Wherever  the  Christian  places  his 
foot,  he  steps  on  flowers.  He  has  his  secret  festi- 
vals, of  which  the  world  knows  nothing.     He  lives 


120       TEE     AUTHOR    OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

on  earth  indeed,  but  carries  heaven  in  his  bosom. 
His  days  are  sometimes  gloomy,  but  a  cheerful  and 
friendly  light  shines  into  his  bosom.  This  joy  does 
not  forsake  the  Christian  even  in  the  hour  of  afflic- 
tion. It  breathes  in  all  his  feelings  and  animates 
them.  When  the  world  around  him  trembles, 
Christ  distils  the  water  of  heavenly  peace  on  his 
heart.  Should  the  earth  sink  beneath  his  feet  and 
the  heavens  from  above  burst  on  his  head,  he  would 
still  rejoice  in  his  Redeemer  and  exclaim,  Dust. 
may  return  to  dust,  my  soul  flies  heavenward. 
What  a  joy  is  that  of  the  Christian,  who  knows 
that  God  leads  him,  controls  his  destiny,  forgives 
his  sins  for  Christ's  sake,  and  embraces  him  in  the 
fulness  of  grace.  0  that  every  one  of  us  may  have 
this  joy  and  cherish  it  in  his  bosom ! 

Men,  finally,  in  every  stage  of  their  lives,  and 
under  all  circumstances,  hope  and  eagerly  grasp  at 
every  gleam  of  hope.  But  many  and  cheering  as  are 
those  hopes  by  which  we  overcome  one  difficulty 
after  another,  by  which  we  climb  from  hill  to  hill, 
and  by  which  we  pass  from  point  to  point, — all 
these  hopes  are  frail  and  vain  without  that  hope, 
which  is  nourished  by  the  living  water  of  Christ — 
the  hope,  that  Christ  shall  come,  to  reveal  His 
glory  and  all  those  many  mysteries  of  life,  which 
now  ■  surround  us  like  buds  not  yet  opened ;  that 
Christ  shall  come  to  unite  the  past  and  the  future 
in  a  single  point,  which  shall  be  full  of  light  and 
truth,  without  darkness  or  error,  and  shine  on  for- 


AT  Jacob's  well.  121 

ever.  This  is  the  hope,  that  when  all  other  hopes 
forsake  us,  will  stand  by  us,  cheer  our  last  gloomy 
moments,  and  plant  the  tree  of  life  on  the  grave 
that  imbosoms  our  remains. 

One  desire  of  men,  however,  I  seem  to  have  for- 
gotten, the  common  and  all-prevailing  desire  for 
riches.  But  what  are  riches  and  possessions  ?  What 
is  w^ealth  and  money  ?  We  enjoy  them  at  most  but 
till  we  die.  Naked,  poor,  and  helpless  we  enter  this 
world,  and  naked,  poor,  and  helpless  we  must  part 
with  it.  Napoleon  grasped  at  the  four  quarters  of 
the  globe,  and  his  body  now  needs  no  more  than  six 
feet  of  soil  to  rest  in  ;  a  golden  crown  rested  on 
his  head,  but  now  only  four  weeping-willows  over- 
hang his  grave  with  their  spreading  branches. 

"  This  life's  not  worth  having  with  all  it  can  give — 
For  something  beyond  it  poor  man  sure  must  live." 

No  one  dies  richer  than  another,  unless  he  has 
drunk  of  the  living  water.  He  is  rich  in  the  grace 
of  our  Heavenly  Father,  in  the  love  of  the  Son,  and 
in  the  hope  of  salvation  and  everlasting  blessedness. 

We  have  seen  the  peculiar  nature  of  this  living 
water,  and  ask  now  :  lohere  shall  we  find  it  ?  For 
we  too  find  it  tedious  to  be  constantly  in  need,  to 
labor  daily  for  the  same  wants,  always  to  replace 
something  that  has  been  consumed,  to  repair  what 
has  been  broken,  to  seek  what  has  been  lost,  to  fill 
what  has  been  emptied ;  we  too  would  like  to  drink 
of  the  living  water  and  thirst  no  more.  Where  can 
we  find  it  ? 

11 


122       THE     AUTHOR     OF    THE     INNER     LIFE 

Not  in  the  depths  of  the  human  mind,  nor  in  the 
strength  of  our  perceptions,  nor  in  the  magnitude 
of  our  talents,  nor  in  the  multitude  of  our  natural 
gifts : — there  we  may  often  find  buds,  but  rarely 
fruit.  Neither  can  we  find  it  in  the  studies  of  the 
philosopher,  nor  in  the  libraries  of  the  learned,  nor 
in  the  academies  of  science  : — there  much  is  sought 
for,  but  little  is  found.  Neither  can  we  find  it  in  the 
calculations  of  prudence,  nor  in  the  fashions  of  life, 
nor  in  the  merit  of  good  works : — there  there  is 
much  show,  but  little  reality.  Neither  is  it  to  be 
found  on  the  tables  of  the  rich,  nor  in  the  drinking- 
room  of  the  debauchee,  nor  in  the  treasuries  of 
kings : — there  is  frequently  much  feasting,  but 
little  enjoyment.  We  cannot  find  it  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  nor  in  ourselves;  we  must  look  heaven- 
ward— to  the  love  of  Him,  who  has  given  us  His 
Son.  The  life  of  Christ,  His  submission  to  the 
Father's  will.  His  love  with  all  His  sufferings  in  our 
stead : — this  is  the  living  water,  whose  nature  is  so 
miraculous.  Would  you  drink  of  it?  Then  receive 
the  life  of  Christ  in  you ;  let  Him  reign  in  you;  let 
Him  influence  your  thoughts,  your  judgments,  your 
life,  your  sufierings,  and  your  will  in  all  its  de- 
terminations and  resolutions.  Let  Him  sustain  you 
wdien  you  are  afiiicted,  satisfy  your  wants  when 
you  are  in  need,  and  strengthen  you  when  you  are 
weak.  Do  not  put  off  receiving  Christ  until  you 
are  old,  until  your  energies  are  exhausted  and  the 
hour  of  adversity  has  come:  but  do  like  tlie  pru- 


AT  Jacob's   well.  123 

dent  citizen,  who  opens  the  well  before  his  house  in 
time,  in  order  to  have  a  supply  of  water  when  fire 
breaks  out — receive  Christ  in  your  youth.  Do  not 
suffer  one  day  to  pass  by  without  Christ ;  fill  your 
heart  with  love  to  truth,  to  righteousness,  and 
above  all  with  gratitude,  that  He  has  suffered  for 
you  and  redeemed  you  from  sin. 

And  especially  to  you,  my  young  friends,  who 
are  in  the  bloom  of  life,  and  many  of  Avhom  have 
resolved  to  devote  themselves  to  the  Lord,  I  w^ould 
say  : — watch  your  opportunity  of  drinking  from  the 
fountain  of  living  water.  Your  conscience  may 
give  you  this  opportunity,  or  the  example  and  walk 
of  bad  men  as  well  as  of  good  men,  or  a  word  spoken 
undesignedly.  The  Lord  may  approach  you  in  the 
beauty  of  nature,  in  the  majestic  sunrise,  in  the 
freshness  of  spring,  or  in  the  melancholy  of  autumn, 
or  in  His  holy  word.  You  may  stand  high  or  low, 
you  may  be  sick  or  well,  rich  or  poor,  happy  or  un- 
fortunate :  the  Lord  will  give  every  one  of  you  his 
opportunity.  Keep  your  eyes  open,  your  judgment 
unbiassed,  and  seize  it  when,  where,  and  under  what- 
ever form  it  may  present  itself.  Perhaps  you  will  be 
favored  but  once  in  your  life  with  circumstances  so 
favorable  as  to  make  it  easy  for  you  to  embrace  the 
Lord  :  if  you  suffer  that  time  to  pass  by  unimproved, 
you  will  lose  wdiat  you  will  never  be  able  to  regain, 
neither  by  j)rayer,  nor  repentance,  nor  labor. 
Your  youth  will  pass  away,  your  strength  will  de- 
crease, your  eyes  will  become  dim,  your  knees  will 


124       THE    AUTHOR    OF    THE    INNER    LIFE,    ETC. 

begin  to  totter,  the  sources  of  your  sensual  pleasure 
will  dry  up,  your  remembrance  of  the  past  will 
grow  weak,  and  your  head,  like  ripe  fruit,  will  bend 
towards  the  grave.  Take  but  one  draught  of  the 
living  water,  and  you  will  never  grow  old,  but  al- 
ways feel  young,  cheerful,  and  strong,  and  your 
death  will  be  like  a  slumber  from  which  you  shall 
awake  only  to  see  the  glory  of  our  Saviour  and 
the  abounding  grace  of  our  Heavenly  Father.  May 
God  bless  you  and  every  one  of  us. 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE 
AS  A  SERVANT. 

John  13  :  1-17. 

"  Now  before  the  feast  of  the  Passover,  when  Jesus  knew  that  His 
hour  was  come  that  He  should  depart  out  of  this  world  unto  the  Fathei-, 
having  loved  His  own  which  were  in  the  world,  He  loved  them  unto  the 
end.  And  supper  being  ended,  the  devil  having  now  put  into  the 
heart  of  Judas  Iscariot,  Simon's  son,  to  betray  Him ;  Jesus  knowing 
that  the  Father  had  given  all  things  into  His  hands,  and  that  He  was 
come  from  God  and  went  to  God;  He  riseth  from  supper,  and  laid 
aside  His  garments  ;  and  took  a  towel  and  girded  Himself.  After  that 
He  poureth  water  into  a  basin,  and  began  to  wash  the  disciples'  feet,  and 
to  wipe  them  with  the  towel  wherewith  He  was  girded.  Then  cometh 
He  to  Simon  Peter :  and  Peter  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  dost  Thou  wash 
my  feet?  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him,  What  I  do  thou  knowest 
not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter.  Peter  saith  unto  Him,  Thou 
shalt  never  wash  my  feet.  Jesus  answered  him,  If  I  wash  thee  not,  thou 
hast  no  part  with  me.  Simon  Peter  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  not  my  feet 
only,  but  also  my  hands  and  my  head.  Jesus  saith  to  him,  He  that  is 
washed,  needeth  not  save  to  wash  his  feet,  but  is  clean  every  whit :  and 
ye  are  clean,  but  not  all.  For  He  knew  who  should  betray  Him  ;  there- 
fore said  He,  Ye  are  not  all  clean.  So  after  he  had  washed  their  feet, 
and  had  taken  His  garments,  and  was  set  down  again,  he  said  unto 
them,  Know  ye  what  I  have  done  to  you  ?  Ye  call  me  Master  and 
Lord:  and  ye  say  well;  for  so  I  am.  If  I  then,  your  Lord  and  Master, 
have  wasjjed  your  feet,  ye  also  ought  to  wash  one  another's  feet.  For 
I  have  given  you  an  example,  that  ye  should  do  as  I  have  done  to  you. 
Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  the  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  lord  ; 
neither  he  that  is  sent  greater  than  He  that  sent  him.  If  ye  know -these 
things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 

To-day  I  bring  before  your  eyes  a   picture   as 
lovely  and  attractive,  as  the  history  of  our  Lord  on 

11* 


126        THE     AUTHOR    OF    THE     INNER    LIFE 

earth  exhibits  anywhere;  I  intend  to  show  you 
our  dear  Redeemer  in  his  greatest  liumility.  I  will 
lead  you  to  that  sacred  circle  of  saints,  surrounding 
Christ  shortly  before  the  commencement  of  His  great 
sufferings  for  our  sins,  and  I  will  show  you  how 
Christ,  full  of  love,  and  full  of  the  most  tender 
interest  in  the  fate  and  success  of  His  disciples  after 
His  death,  and  resurrection,  and  glorification,  teaches 
them  by  deed,  and  not  merely  by  words  and  doc- 
trines, that  of  all  qualities,  humbleness  is  the  most 
necessary  for  His  ministers,  and  that  it  is  the  high- 
est external  sign  of  genuine  love  within. 

We  will  consider :  1.  The  import  of  the  passage  I 
have  read  to  you ;  2.  The  occasion  given  for 
Christ  washing  the  disciples'  feet ;  3.  The  symboli- 
cal meaning  of  the  act. 

The  Import. — The  nearer  the  day  approached  on 
which  Christ  was  to  expire  on  the  cross,  the  stronger, 
the  more  fervent  was  His  love  to  His  disciples. 
The  Saviour  appears  in  this  respect  entirely  like 
one  of  us,  accessible  to  all  the  feelings  of  pain,  of 
love,  and  of  desire,  only  more  pure  and  more 
heavenly.  Thus  He  had  a  great  desire  once  more 
and  for  the  last  time  on  this  earth,  to  celebrate  the 
Passover  with  His  beloved  disciples.  Our  Saviour 
was  not  a  Stoic,  and  his  going  to  the  death  of  the 
cross  was  no  Stoicism.  He  could  sympathize  with 
the  beloved;  He  could  weep  with  the  mournful, 
and  rejoice  with  the  happy.     With  a  prayer  He 


AS    A     SERVANT.       "  127 

opens  the  meal ;  all  lie  around  Him,  and  we  natu- 
rally feel  anxious  to  know  what  the  conversation 
may  have  been  in  these  last  and  precious  moments. 
But  see,  Christ  rises  !  What  may  He  wish  to  do  ? 
He  lays  aside  His  garments.  He  takes  a  towel  and 
girdeth  Himself  like  a  servant.  Is  He  no  longer 
the  Lord,  into  whose  hand  the  Father  hath  given 
all  things,  and  who  knows  that  He  has  come  from 
God,  and  that  He  is  going  to  God  ?  Transfer  your- 
selves for  a  moment  into  the  situation  of  the  dis- 
ciples. They  had  frequently  seen  their  Master  act 
without  uttering  many  words ;  they  had  seen  Him 
in  the  greatest  humility ;  they  had  seen  Him 
among  sinners,  among  the  poor,  among  the  lowest 
in  rank.  But  now  He  appears  before  them,  stripped 
of  all  glory,  in  the  dress  of  a  servant :  how  must 
their  expectation  have  been  raised?  How  much 
more  must  they  have  been  astonished,  when  they 
saw  Him  commence  washing  their  own  feet  ?  What 
mind  is  capable  of  comprehending  such  love,  such 
humbleness,  such  mildness!  See  Him,  to  whom 
belong  glory  and  honor,  equal  to  that  of  the 
Father,  bending  down  in  love  to  His  disciples 
and  performing  for  them  a  service,  disgusting  in 
itself  and  belonging  to  the  office  of  those  only 
whom  poverty  and  misfortune  had  pressed  down  to 
a  condition  of  servitude.  How  sweet  must  it 
be  to  serve,  now,  when  He  whom  angels  praise  and 
adore,  goes  as  a  servant  with  water  in  His  hand, 
from  disciple  to  disciple,  to  wash  their  feet !     How 


128        THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

sweet  must  it  be  now,  to  perform  even  the  lowest 
of  all  services,  when  He,  who  is  the  greatest  on 
earth  and  who  lias  none  beyond  Him  in  Heaven, 
serves  those  in  His  love,  who  live  and  breathe  only 
through  Him.  The  heavens  smile  down  on  Him, 
the  Father's  eye  rests  with  delight  on  Him ;  He 
knows  that  He  comes  from  God  and  goes  to  God, 
and  3'et  He  makes  Himself  the  lowest  of  all.  As 
the  light  of  the  sun  enlightens  and  warms  all  that 
lives  through  it,  and  does  not  withhold  its  reviving 
and  blessed  rays  from  any  plant  in  nature,  so  does 
the  love  of  Christ  sink  into  the  bosom  of  every  one, 
in  every  condition  and  relation  of  life,  and  call  forth 
into  existence,  love,  devotion,  and  hapinness. 

The  Occasion. — What  gave  the  occasion  for  this 
humble  action  of  Christ  ?  The  opinions  of  divines 
are  divided  on  this  question.  Some  say,  that 
the  disciples,  though  pious  and  faithful,  though 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  dignity  of  their 
Master  and  the  object  of  His  dwelling  among  men, 
could  nevertheless  not  altogether  abandon  the  idea, 
that  Christ  would  establish  an  earthly  kingdom, 
and  tliat  in  it  He  would  distribute  the  different 
offices  of  the  highest  honor  among  His  disciples. 
Hence  it  was  necessary  to  dissipate  these  false  hopes. 
But  if  such  had  been  the  case,  would  not  the  words 
of  Christ,  "  That  ye  may  eat  and  drink  at  my  table 
in  my  kingdom,  and  sit  on  thrones  judging  the 
twelve   tribes  of  Israel"    (Luke   22   :   30),    have 


AS    A     SERVANT.  129 

had  a  tendency  to  strengthen  their  earthly  and 
sensual  hopes  ?  And  further  :  how  cruel  and  selfish 
would  it  have  been  in  the  disciples,  if  in  an  hour  so 
near  the  great  sufferings  of  our  Lord,  they  would 
have  thought  more  of  their  own  honor  and  glory, 
and  ninlv,  than  of  their  kind  and  benignant  Master ! 
I  confess,  that  I  could  neither  love  nor  revere  the 
disciples,  if  they  were  guilty  of  such  a  cruelty. 

As  we  may  infer  from  Luke,  a  contention  had 
arisen  among  the  disciples  concerning  their  places 
at  the  table.  As  the  stars  are  attracted  by  the  sun, 
so  was  every  disciple  irresistibly  drawn  by  Christ, 
and  each  one  desired  to  •sit  nearest  to  his  Master. 
The  contention  arose  then  from  love,  and  we  are 
inclined  to  excuse  errors  arising  from  such  a  source, 
for  we  think  that  love  can  never  sin.  The  disciples, 
conscious  of  this,  exhibited,  perhaps,  each  one  his 
superior  claims  to  a  seat  nearest  to  the  Saviour, 
and  highest  in  Christ's  kingdom.  Love  caused  them 
to  err,  and  by  an  act  of  love  our  Redeemer  in- 
tended to  correct  their  error ;  and  teach  them  that 
hereafter  no  one  should  any  longer  consider  him- 
self superior  to  another,  since  the  Master  had  made 
Himself  the  servant  of  His  servants. 

The  view  I  have  taken,  will  become  more  clear 
by  looking  at  some  of  the  individual  characters,  by 
which  Christ  was  surrounded. 

Our  eye  running  over  this  holy  circle,  is  first 
arrested  by  Judas.  "  The  Devil  having  now  put 
it  into  the  heart  of  Judas,  Simon's  son,  to  betray 


130        THE     AUTHOR    OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

Him."  John  in  relating  this  circumstance,  intend- 
ed, no  doubt,  to  exhibit  the  love  and  humbleness 
of  Christ  in  the  most  striking  opposition  to  the 
daring  arrogance  of  sin  in  Judas.  "  The  Devil 
had  put  it  into  the  heart  of  Judas."  It  was  not 
merely  a  sinful  thought  that  passed  through  his 
mind ;  bad  thoughts  may  even  sometimes  fill  the 
consciousness  of  the  good  and  the  pious,  whose  per- 
sonality, however,  not  being  affected,  overcomes 
these  thoughts  by  the  power  of  prayer,  as  so  many 
a  beautiful  legend  tells  us  in  the  form  of  the  most 
lovely  poetry.  But  the  Devil  had  put  it  into  the 
heart  of  Judas.  The  heart  is  the  centre  of  our 
personality  ;  it  is  the  fountain,  from  which  come 
forth  our  inclinations  and  wishes,  our  desires  and 
passions;  this  fountain  being  poisoned,  all  possi- 
bility of  piety  and  salvation  is  destroyed  ;  this 
fountain  being  in  the  power  of  Satan,  hatred 
against  the  Lord  must  be  absolute,  'permanent,  and 
iincliangeable.  As  Christ  is  the  absolute  love,  so  is 
Judas  the  absolute  hatred  ;  and  as  Christ  saves  the 
sinner  by  assuming  his  nature,  so  Judas,  under  the 
pretext  of  love,  by  a  kiss,  executes  his  sinful 
design,  and  draws  what  is  holy  and  good,  into  the 
sphere  of  corruption  and  pollution.  Never  did  the 
sun  shine  upon  a  spectacle  like  the  one  before  us : 
Christ  knows,  that  Judas  will  betray  Him,  but  still 
He  approaches  him  in  love;  Judas,  with  a  heart  full 
of  hatred,  quietly  accepts  this  token  of  love,  and 
thus  hardens  his  heart  more  and  more  ;  for  this  is 


AS    A     SERVANT.  131 

the  curse,  inflicted  on  sin,  that  in  its  selfishness,  it 
must  convert  even  what  is  most  pure,  into  its  own 
nature ;  this  is  the  curse  inflicted  on  sin,  that  one 
bad  deed  must  beget  another,  and  that  the  sinner 
enchains  himself  by  a  series  of  his  own  wicked 
deeds,  each  of  which  is  but  the  consequence  of  the 
one  which  preceded  it. 

Let  us  turn  our  eyes  away  from  this  sight,  and 
let  us  fix  them  upon  him  whom  Christ  loves, 
upon  John.  Though  it  is  not  said,  with  which  dis- 
ciple Christ  commenced  the  washing  of  feet,  it  is 
likely  that  John  received  this  sign  of  love  first. 
He  does  not  oppose  Christ  in  what  He  is  about  to 
do;  he  lives  so  entirely  in  his  Saviour,  his  will  is 
so  entirely  absorbed  in  that  of  his  Master,  that, 
like  the  star  which  seems  to  have  no  light  of  its 
own  in  the  presence  of  the  sun,  he  has  no  will 
before  Christ,  but  suffers  Him  to  dispose  of  his 
limbs  as  well  as  of  his  heart.  0  that  we  all  were 
like  John,  and  would  never  oppose  Christ,  when 
He  desires  to  perforin  His  work  in  us  ! 

In  Peter  another  instructive  sight  presents  itself 
to  us.  I  would  like  to  give  you  this  instruction  in 
a  few  words  :  Every  virtue  that  irroceeds  from  oar 
ovm  icill,  and  not  from  the  love  of  God  in  us  and  from 
love  to  God,  is  in  the  eye  of  Christ  a  vice.  The 
highest  virtues  of  a  Stoic  or  of  an  atheist  are, 
according  to  Augustine,  but  so  many  splendid 
vices.  Peter  loves  Christ;  his  zeal  for  Him  is 
unlimited ;  but  he  is  not  yet  delivered  altogether 


132        THE     AUTHOR    OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

from  his  own  will.  The  decided  character  of  Peter 
rendered  it  difficult  for  Him  to  yield  his  will  so  to 
that  of  Christ,  as  if  he  had  none  of  his  own.  In 
this  instance,  he  is  misled  by  a  false  modesty,  a 
modesty  that  would  still  be  praiseworthy,  were  not 
obedience  to  our  Lord  much  more  so.  This  is  a 
great  and  a  very  important  truth.  Love  does  not 
accept  anything,  unless  the  love  of  God  in  man  has 
effected  and  granted  it;  hence  it  is,  that  Christ 
does  not  accept  the  modesty  of  Peter.  Peter  seeing 
that  he  has  done  wrong,  at  once  goes  to  the  other 
extreme,  exclaiming,  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but 
also  my  hands  and  my  head.  Thus  the  will  of 
Peter  yields  indeed  to  Christ,  but  presents  itself 
again  in  another  peculiar  aspect.  Christ  intends 
to  wash  His  feet  only,  but  Peter  desires  Him  now 
to  wash  his  hands  and  head  too.  This  is  the  nature 
of  self-will ;  you  limit  it  on  one  side  only  that  it 
may  run  on  the  other  into  the  opposite  extreme. 
And  this  is  the  dust  of  sin  that  still  adheres  to 
Peter's  feet ;  though  he  is  washed  everywhere  else, 
though  he  is  regenerated,  yet,  unless  Christ  wash 
off  this  dust,  Peter  cannot  have  any  part  in  His 
kingdom. 

Having  cast  a  glance  upon  Judas,  upon  John, 
and  upon  Peter,  let  us  cast  one  likewise  upon  Christ 
Jesus  Himself,  who,  in  the  midst  of  His  disciples, 
is  the  centre,  around  which  they  all  move.  John, 
who  so  frequently  calls  Christ  the  light  of  the  ivorld, 
the  icaier,  and  the  bread  of  life,  delights  manifestly 


AS     A     SERVANT.  13P> 

in  representing  Iliui  in  his  highest  glory — in  his 
greatest  humility.  Hence  he  adds  tiie  beautiful 
and  most  glorious  words  :  '^'  Knowing  that  the  Fa- 
ther had  given  all  things  into  his  hands,  and  that 
He  was  come  from  God,  and  went  to  God."  (v.  3.) 
No  poetry,  no  richness  of  thought,  nor  of  language, 
no  fancy  nor  any  imagination,  could  have  plucked 
a  finer  laurel  anywhere,  to  twine  around  the  fore- 
head of  our  blessed  Saviour,  than  John  did  in  these 
few  and  simple  words.  In  the  full  consciousness  of 
His  highest  glory  and  majesty,  it  is  accordingly, 
that  Christ  descends  into  the  most  concealed  depth 
of  a  Judas,  and  washes  his  feet ;  in  this  consciousness 
it  is,  that  He  enters  into  the  condition  of  a  servant, 
in  order  to  raise  our  race  up  to  Him.  But  such  is 
the  nature  of  love  ;  it  enters  into  the  relations  and 
condition  of  its  object,  and  unites  itself  with  it  so 
entirely,  that  though  still  ivjo,  they  nevertheless 
are  but  one. 

The  Symbolical  Meaning. — From  the  words, 
which  Christ  spoke  to  Peter :  "  If  I  wash  thee  not, 
thou  hast  no  part  with  me,"  it  appears  that  the  feet- 
washing  of  our  Saviour  was  not  a  common  one ; 
else  these  words  would  have  been  too  severe,  too 
hard,  for  Peter.  As  Baptism  is  an  external  sign 
under  which  our  spiritual  regeneration  is  repre- 
sented, and  as  this  spiritual  meaning  of  baptism  can 
onl}^  be  understood  by  the  spiritual  man,  and  not  by 
him,  who  perceives  merely  the  water,  so  likewise  has 

12 


134       THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

the  feet-washing  of  our  Saviour  a  symbolical  mean- 
ing, which  is  intelligible  only  to  the  spirit  within  us. 
Whilst  Baptism  is  the  sign  of  our  general  regene- 
ration, feet-washing  is  the  sign  by  which  the  mis- 
takes, errors,  and  sins,  to  which  even  the  most 
pious  among  us  are  still  exposed,  are  represented  as 
forgiven  and  pardoned  by  the  immeasurable  love  of 
Christ.  Such  an  assurance  the  disciples  of  Christ, 
who  were  soon  to  be  separated  from  Him  on  earth, 
were  especially  in  need  of,  lest  their  smaller  errors 
would  have  caused  them  to  be  discouraged  in  their 
great  undertaking.  Daily  we  sin,  and  daily  do  we 
stand  in  need  of  that  love,  which  alone  can  wash 
away  the  sins,  which  like  the  dust  on  our  feet, 
rests  on  our  conscience.  But  bear  in  mind,  that  it 
is  Peter  and  not  Judas,  upon  whom  feet-washing 
has  this  effect ;  little  will  therefore  depend  upon 
the  fact,  whether  we  perform  this  ceremony  daily 
upon  ourselves  and  our  friends,  or  not,  if  we  only 
have  the  spirit  with  which  it  was  performed  by  our 
Lord^  The  performance  itself  is  unnecessary,  since 
we  do  not  find  it  introduced,  like  Baptism  or  the 
Lord's  Supper,  into  the  Apostolical  Church,  and  since 
climatic  difterences  and  our  sexual  relations  would 
render  its  performance  in  our  situation  almost  im- 
possible, at  least  highly  improper. 

May,  therefore,  in  the  place  of  merely  external 
forms  and  ceremonies,  that  spirit  descend  upon  us, 
which  renders  the  great  humble,  and  the  humble 
great;  may  our  small  circle  be  devoted  to  the  Lord, 


AS     A     SERVANT.  loO 

as  the  disciples  were;  may  each  one  of  us  love,  ad- 
mire, and  imitate  our  great  Master.  Like  John, 
may  every  one  of  us  say,  Here  are  my  thoughts,  0 
Lord !  reign  in  them ;  here  are  my  senses,  sanctify 
them ;  here  is  my  will,  make  it  thine  own  ;  here 
are  the  members  of  my  body,  dispose  of  them. 
Here  is  my  life,  extend  it  or  shorten  it,  call  me 
away  to-day,  or  to-morrow,  only  grant  that  I  may 
live  to  Thee  and  die  in  Thy  name,  my  dear  Saviour ! 
Especially  may  all  of  you,  who  intend  to  become 
ministers  of  Christ  Jesus,  be  humble,  and  be  the 
servants  of  every  one,  for  Christ's  sake,  on  every 
occasion,  in  every  proper  way,  and  with  all  your 
power,  until  death.     Amen. 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE  BEARING 
HIS  CROSS. 

John  19  :  16-18. 

"  Then  delivered  he  Him  therefore  iinto  them  to  be  crucified,  and  they 
took  Jesns,  and  led  Him  away.  And  He  bearing  His  cross  went  forth 
into  a  place  called  the  place  of  a  skull,  which  is  called  in  the  Hebrew, 
Golgotha  :  where  they  crucified  Him,  and  two  others  with  Him,  on  either 
side  one,  and  Jesus  in  the  midst." 

How  would  we  feel  if  we  had  never  heard  of  a 
suffering  Redeemer,  if  we  had  never  read  of  Him, 
and  He  were  now  for  the  first  time  to  be  named 
to  us? 

When  we  were  yet  children,  we  were  led  to  Gol- 
gotha :  then  already  we  received  some  impressions, 
though  we  had  no  measure  by  which  to  estimate 
the  height  and  depth  of  such  sufferings. 

Afterwards  Christ  was  often  represented  to  us ; 
we  grew  in  knowledge;  but  the  first  impression 
which  we  received  of  Christ  in  our  earliest  child- 
hood, and  upon  which  so  much  depends,  was  not 
deep  enough.  It  is  perhaps  on  this  account,  that 
we  were  never  so  deeply  moved,  never  so  entirely 
absorbed  in  grief  by  looking  upon  our  Saviour's 
sufferings,  as  we  often  are  in  common  life,  when 
losing  a  brother,  or  a  kind  parent,  or  a  friend. 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  137 

What  once  is  past,  we  can  not  redeem.  That 
first  impression,  of  which  I  speak,  we  can  not 
recaU.  But  to-day  we  will  endeavor  to  receive  a 
full  impression  of  the  mournful  vmlh  (f  our  Saviour 
hearing  his  cross  to  Golgotha.  For  this  purpose,  let 
all  earthly  wishes  and  desires  be  silent  in  our 
breasts  ;  let  us  forget  the  world  and  its  vanity,  and 
enter  into  meditation.  Let  us  imagine  that  we  see 
around  us  Gethsemane  and  Golgotha ;  and  let  us 
walk  by  the  side  of  our  Lord  when  He  carries  the 
cross. 

May  the  Lord  sanctify  our  hearts,  grant  our 
desires,  and  fill  us  with  faith  and  holy  love. 
Amen. 

Our  text  does  not  contain  many  words.  But 
when  I  read  them,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  were 
standing  on  a  mountain,  the  surface  of  which  is 
poor  and  barren,  but  whose  bowels  are  filled  with 
beautiful  and  shining  gold.  Light  we  need  to  en- 
ter mines;  and  flxith  we  need  to  understand  the 
secret  counsels  of  God,  and  to  see  the  beauty  and 
the  depth  of  words,  that  externally  look  sterile. 
I  shall  enter  into  the  particulars  of  my  text,  and 
ask  you  to  follow  me  in  love  and  in  patience. 

And  they  took  Jesus. — Here  already  we  must 
stop  and  ask  :   Who  is  He  whom  they  took  ? 

Man  is  created  to  live.  But  a  man  may  forfeit 
his  noble  destiny  by  the  commission  of  crimes,  and 
his  fellow-men  may  deem  it  right  and  expedient 

12* 


138       THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

for  their  own  safety  to  hurry  him  away  from  the 
face  of  the  earth  into  the  shades  of  death.  The 
thought  is  an  awful  one,  and  we  tremble  whenever 
it  is  realized  in  a  fellow-being. 

When,  however,  one  who  is  innocent  falls  a 
victim  to  mere  suspicion ;  when  some  noble  one 
is  sacrificed  to  a  spirit  of  persecution ;  when  one  is 
so  unfortunate  as  to  surpass  the  genius  of  his  age 
and  to  be  led  to  death  by  an  erroneous  opinion 
or  by  the  malice  of  his  contemporaries,  like  a  Huss, 
we  are  struck  with  fear  and  terror. 

And  ivlio  icas  He  idIioiu  they  took  ?  He  was 
Christ,  promised  by  the  Word  of  God,  for  whom  all 
ages  had  been  hoping  and  praying ;  He  was  the 
Saviour  of  the  human  race  and  the  Son  of  God, 
through  whom  the  Father  was  pleased  to  take  pity 
on  His  fallen  children.  He,  the  most  pure  and 
holy,  is  condemned  by  the  most  impure  and  unholy. 
The  Lord  of  Heaven  is  sentenced  to  death  by  the 
creatures  of  the  dust.  Love  is  sacrificed  by  hatred. 
The  blessings  which  He  bestowed  are  reciprocated 
by  scorn,  by  reproach  and  contempt,  and  by  the  in- 
fliction of  pain.  "  But  when  the  husbandmen  saw 
him,  they  reasoned  among  themselves,  saying,  This 
is  the  heir,  come,  let  us  kill  him,  that  the  inheri- 
tance may  be  ours.  So  they  cast  him  out  of  the 
vineyard  and  killed  him."     They  slew  the  only  son. 

They  took  Jesus. — Who  were  they  ?  Who  took 
Him  ?  Who  slew  Him  ? 

The  accusers  and  witnesses,  the  judge  and  the 


BEARING    HIS     CROSS.  139 

servants — all  were  alike.  No  one  had  a  heart  to 
feel,  no  one  the  nobleness  to  venture  anything  for 
an  innocent  man,  for  the  Son  of  God. 

And  now  He  is  delivered  over  into  the  hands,  of 
the  Romans.  Roman  soldiers  receive  Him  and  exe- 
cute the  sentence  given  by  a  Roman  judge.  Thus 
He  is  in  the  hands  of  heathen,  as  if  the  Jews  were 
no  longer  worthy  to  have  Him,  who  was  theirs  by 
prophecy  and  by  birth.  They  have  succeeded  in 
thrusting  Him  out  among  men,  who  were  strangers 
to  true  dignity;  whose  dark  bosoms  were  shut 
against  the  entrance  of  any  light;  whose  hands 
were  as  rough  as  the  sword  which  they  were 
accustomed  to  handle ;  and  who,  hardened  by  the 
constant  sight  of  misery  and  injustice,  had  sunk  so 
low  as  to  be  the  vile  servants  of  tyranny,  and  were 
without  mercy,  and  without  feeling. 

And  they  took  Jesus,  and  led  Him  away.  The 
court-house  was  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  city,  to- 
wards the  Mount  of  Olives ;  the  place  of  execution 
was  in  the  west,  before  the  gate.  The  way  is  said 
to  have  been  at  least  a  mile  long,  and  to  have  ex- 
tended through  nearly  the  whole  breadth  of  the 
city.  It  was  expressively  called  the  Street  of  Grief 
or  of  pain.  And  even  yet,  after  two  thousand  years 
have  almost  passed  by,  pious  pilgrims  may  see  the 
ruins  of  Pilate's  palace,  the  place  where  Simon  took 
the  cross,  and  the  region  where  the  women  stood, 
weeping  over  the  Lord. 


140   THE  AUTHOR  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE 

With  what  feelings  did  our  Saviour  walk  through 
this  street !  Through  those  streets  He  had  to  go, 
in  which  His  voice  had  so  often  been  heard,  pro- 
claiming salvation ;  where  He  had  so  often  wrought 
miracles ;  where  He  had- scattered  so  many  mercies 
around  Him ;  and  where  His  name  had  so  often 
been  praised  by  those  whom  He  had  blessed. 

What  must  have  been  His  feelings  when  He 
passed  by  the  temple,  which  He  had  rendered  holy 
by  His  preaching,  and  which  He  had  consecrated 
as  the  prototype  of  the  future  kingdom  of  God? 
The  evening  before  the  Jews  celebrate  the  feast  of 
their  deliverance,  He  who  had  come  to  deliver  them 
effectually  and  forever,  is  led  to  the  death  of  the 
cross.  He  shall  not  be  in  the  midst  of  them,  when 
they  enjoy  their  feast — He  who  alone  could  have 
changed  their  days  of  festivity  into  days  of  eternal 
joy.  What  pain  and  sadness  must  Christ  have  felt 
under  such  reflections ! 

How  must  He  have  felt  when  He  went  forth  into 
Golgotha,  and  all  that  were  in  Jerusalem  turned 
their  eyes  upon  Him,  as  upon  a  criminal,  though 
He  was  Jesus  Christ,  our  Anointed  Redeemer. 
Jesus  He  was,  who  ha(i  given  sight  to  the  blind, 
hearing  to  the  deaf,  aiid  who  had  called  the  dead 
back  to  life  again; 'Jesus  He  was,  who  had  been 
listened  to  the  day  before  with  enthusiasm,  and 
whom  but  a  short  time  before  'the  multitude  had 
saluted  with  a  loud  Hosanna.  Now  they  are  silent. 
Their  applause  has  been  changed  into  reproach; 


BEARING    niS    CROSS.  141 

their  admiration  into  scorn ;  their  confidence  into 
despair.  And  yet  He  was  even  then  Jesus,  as  great 
as  He  ever  was  before. 

And  He  bearing  His  cross  went  forth.  Whoever 
was  condemned  to  die  the  death  of  the  cross,  had 
to  carry  it,  not  indeed  the  whole  of  it,  but  only  its 
fork  or  cross-piece,  which  was  to  be  fastened  to  the 
upright  beam,  already  fixed  in  its  place.  Jesus, 
also,  the  Saviour  of  men,  bending  down  under  an 
unworthy  burden,  carries  the  accursed  wood. 

But  strength  forsakes  Him.  He  cannot  walk 
any  further  under  the  load.  Simon,  a  Lybian,  a 
native  of  Cyrene,  where  many  thousands  of  Jews 
lived,  all  of  whom  were  accustomed  to  go  to  their 
synagogues  in  Jerusalem,  meets  them.  Perhaps  he 
looked  with  pity  on  our  bleeding,  exhausted  Sa- 
viour. A  tear  perhaps  was  visible  in  his  eye. 
Perhaps  he  was  suspected  of  following  Christ,  for 
he  was  the  father  of  Alexander  and  Rufus,  who 
were  afterwards  converted.  Whether  they  com- 
pelled him  to  bear  the  cross,  because  he  happened 
to  be  nearest  to  them,  or  because  he  manifested 
compassion  towards  the  Lord,  or  because  he  was 
supposed  to  love  Him,  is  not  known  to  us.  But 
this  we  do  know,  that  although  the  Saviour  bore 
our  sins  and  the  sin  of  the  world,  we  must  never- 
theless ivith  Him  Carry  the  cross.  We  must  take 
His  cross  and  walk  with  Him  to  Golgotha;  we 
must  die  with  Him  and  be  buried  with  Him,  be- 


142       THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNEK     LIFE 

fore  we  can  rise  with  Him.     What  Simon  did  in 
reality,  we  must  do  in  spirit,  and  in  faith. 

The  cross  is  the  banner,  which  all  nations  and 
every  individual  must  approach.  The  cross  attracts 
them :  it  attracted  Simon  also.  But  the  path  to 
the  cross  of  Christ,  and  to  the  life  flowing  from 
it,  leads  through  the  crucifixion  of  our  own  sins. 
Whoever  can  understand  this,  will  lose  his  life  for 
Christ's  sake,  that  he  may  find  it  anew  in  Him. 

Where  they  crucified  Him. — Death  by  crucifix- 
ion, was  the  most  painful  of  all  deaths.  The  unfor- 
tunate victim,  whose  sinews  were  extended  in  the 
most  unnatural  maimer,  was  consumed  by  the  slow 
fire  of  a  fever ;  and  whilst  agonizing  and  withering 
in  the  air,  he  might  sigh  and  groan  for  days  before 
the  last  moment  came.  The  cross  itself  was  not 
very  high;  though  modern  artists  may  represent 
it  so.  Not  far  from  the  ground,  there  was  a  pro- 
jection in  the  principal  beam,  on  which  the  feet 
were  allowed  to  rest.  Before  the  sufferer  was 
raised  up,  a  drink  was  handed  to  him.  This  drink, 
consisting  of  wine  and  other  ingredients,  was  in- 
toxicating, and  designed  to  blunt  the  stings  of  pain 
and  weaken  the  consciousness.  Such  a  drink  of 
sour  wine  and  wormwood,  was  offered  also  to  Christ, 
but  He  did  not  accept  of  it.  He  did  not  wish  to 
weaken  His  consciousness  of  the  pains  of  death; 
His  drink  and  His  meat  was  to  do  the  will  of  His 
Father. 

After  this  drink  had  been  given,  it  was  customary 


BEARING     HIS    CROSS.  143 

to  undress  the  victim,  fasten  his  arms  to  the  cross- 
piece  by  a  rope,  and  then  nail  hhn  to  it.  Sometimes 
the  feet  were  also  nailed  flist,  at  other  times  not. 
How  Christ  was  dealt  with  in  this  respect,  is  not 
known. 

But  from  beginning  to  end,  what  torture!  What 
a  series  of  pains !  What  a  gradual  increase  of 
misery  !  It  is  not  a  death  that  takes  away  life  by 
a  single  blow,  but  an  infliction  of  pain,  that  now 
attacks  the  victim  and  then  partly  releases  him,  to 
attack  him  again  and  again,  until  by  degrees  it 
penetrates  every  nerve  and  every  muscle,  and  the 
poor  sufferer  expires  from  exhaustion. 

And  two  others  with  Him,  on  either  side  one,  and 
Jesus  in  the  midst. — At  the  time  of  Christ,  Judea 
was  filled  with  criminals,  who  were  frequently  col- 
lected into  a  band,  and  called  themselves  the  libe- 
rators of  Israel.  They  were  often  led  by  one  who 
feigned  to  be  the  Messiah,  and  by  means  of  pre- 
tended miracles  sometimes  induced  even  pious 
persons  to  join  him.  To  such  a  band  perhaps  both 
the  criminals  belonged  who  were  crucified  with 
Christ.  Yet  their  disposition  was  very  different. 
The  one  was  no  doubt  led  astray  by  mistaken 
views  of  right  and  wrong,  by  the  urgency  of  rela- 
tions, and  by  the  conjunction  of  many  circum- 
stances. The  other  was  a  villain.  Between  these, 
however,  Christ  had  to  die.  He  whom  angels  had 
introduced  into  the  world  with  rejoicing,  and  whom 


144       THE     AUTHOR    OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

the  wise  men  of  the  East  had  saluted  with  their 
precious  gifts ;  He,  who  was  the  King  of  kings, 
must  depart  from  this  life  among  robbers.  He  who 
reigned  as  Prophet  and  as  King — who  had  unlimited 
command  of  the  powers  of  nature — who  subdued 
the  storm  and  walked  upon  the  waves  of  the  sea — 
who  fed  thousands  with  a  few  leaves  of  bread — who 
cured  the  sick  and  expelled  evil  spirits — He  hangs 
between  two  murderers,  as  if  He  were  the  worst 
sinner  among  them. 

And  TWO  others  with  Him. — Why  was  this  ?  Why 
had  Christ  to  die  between  two  malefactors  ? 

Those  who  are  satisfied  with  transferring  a  diffi- 
culty from  one  place  to  another,  we  hear  saying, 
The  Scriptures  had  to  be  fulfilled.  But  the  same 
Providence  spoke  through  the  Prophets  in  the  Old 
Testament,  that  executed  its  predictions  through 
the  Jews  and  the  Romans  in  the  New  Testament ; 
and  if  there  was  a  design  in  fulfilling  the  prophe- 
cies, there  must  have  been  one  also  in  giving  them. 

The  few  words  I  shall  say  on  this  subject,  I 
introduce  with  a  general  remark.  We  are  all 
in  the  power  of  God;  we  must  all  serve  Him, 
some  loith  and  others  against  our  wills.  But  the 
latter  are  God's  slaves;  the  former  are  His  children. 
The  slaves  of  God,  without  knowing  what  they  do, 
work  out  a  significant  symbol,  which  suggests  to  us 
many  instructive  reflections.  Such  a  symbol  we 
have  in  this  place. 


BEARING    niS    CROSS.  145 

111  the  wickedness  of  their  hearts  and  from 
malice,  His  enemies  hang  Christ  between  two  cri- 
minals, and  thus  intend  to  insult  Him,  whose  disci- 
ples were  now  dispersed,  whom  Judas  had  betrayed 
and  Peter  had  denied,  and  against  whom  the  people 
raged.  But  whilst  they  wish  still  more  to  wound 
His  wounded  breast,  they  are  preparing  a  healing 
balm  for  Him.  Faith  which  had  disappeared 
among  His  own  disciples,  shows  itself  in  a  robber. 
When  no  one  can  believe  that  the  pierced  right 
arm  of  Christ  is  strong  enough  to  lead  a  soul 
through  the  dark  valley  of  death,  when  all  give 
up  in  despair,  thinking  that  He  who  dies  the  death 
of  a  criminal  cannot  open  the  gates  of  Heaven — 
a  robber  comes  forth,  a  hero  in  faith,  and  bears 
witness  that  Christ  has  come  to  save  sinners. 

Again :  The  robbers  were  sinners,  and  sinners 
we  all  are.  They  did  but  represent  our  race.  Thus 
Christ  hangs  between  the  representatives  of  mankind. 
But  only  one  of  these  sinners  repents ;  the  other 
reviles  Christ.  And  thus  it  is  with  us.  Some  of 
us  believe,  others  reject  Christ.  Jesus,  on  the  cross, 
receives  the  thief  that  believes;  He  passes  judg- 
ment. Thus  the  cross,  intended  for  His  reproach 
and  destruction,  becomes  the  throne  on  which  the 
Judge  of  mankind  is  seated  :  Golgotha  becomes  the 
seat  of  judgment.  In  like  manner,  will  our  race 
on  that  great  day  be  divided  into  two  parts,  as  its 
representatives  on  Golgotha.     On  the  one  side  of 

13 


146       THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

Christ  those  will  stand  that  are  saved,  and  on  the 
other  those  that  are  condemned. 

Again :  They  crown  Him  with  thorns.  The 
thorns  are  only  the  symbols  of  those  pains  which 
this  sinful  earth,  the  mother  of  thorns,  had  pre- 
pared for  Him.  Thus,  through  a  crown  of  thorns. 
His  enemies  confess  symbolically,  without  knowing 
or  willing  it,  what  sorrows  Christ  had  to  endure,  in 
order  to  save  us  from  sin  and  give  us  life  eternal. 

Again  :  His  arms  are  extended  on  the  cross ;  they 
Avho  hate  Him  have  nailed  them  so.  But  love  is 
stronger  than  hatred.  Christ  Himself  willingly 
stretched  out  His  arms  on  the  cross  to  embrace  the 
whole  world  in  His  love,  and  to  call  down  from 
Golgotha  to  all  nations,  to  come  to  the  cross,  to 
unite  under  it,  and  fall  into  the  arms  of  a  kind  and 
merciful  Saviour. 

Thus  every  mark  of  infamy  which  the  enemies 
of  Christ  put  upon  Him,  is  converted  into  glory ; 
they  do  what  they  will  not ;  and  what  they  will 
they  are  too  weak  to  do. 

One  truth,  then,  we  may  learn  from  the  latter 
part  of  our  discussion.     It  is  this  : 

There  is  but  one  true  glorj^,  and  there  is  but  one 
kind  of  real  ignominy.  That  ignominy  is  sin. 
That  glory  is  faith,  and  a  life  of  faith  averse  to  sin. 
Ignominy  can  not  be  covered  nor  concealed  with 
all  the  tokens  of  honor  which  earth  may  confer; 
true  glory  can  not  be  diminished  by  any  acts  of 
hatred  or  of  envy;  but  every  attempt  to  tarnish  it. 


BEARING     HIS    CROSS.  147 

only  increases  its  brilliancy.  If  you  give  your- 
selves to  the  service  of  sin,  you  cannot  escape  sliame 
and  destruction,  for  should  you  take  wings  and 
dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  ocean,  there  also 
would  His  eye  be  upon  you.  But  if  you  devote 
yourselves  to  the  service  of  God,  true  glory  and 
everlasting  life  will  be  yours.  The  crown  of  thorns 
becomes  a  crown  of  life  on  the  head  of  our  Saviour. 
His  cross  becomes  His  throne.  Thus  will  it  be 
also  with  all  the  sufferings  and  reproaches  of  those 
who  love  the  Lord;  they  will  be  converted  into 
joy  and  honor. 

But  in  order  to  obtain  true  glory,  a^ou  must  pray 
to  God.  You  must  sing  praises  to  Him,  who  died 
for  you.  You  must  seize  the  blessings  which  the 
cross  offers.  You  must  go  to  the  Redeemer.  Go 
then  to  Him  and  say  :  Here  I  am,  Lord,  and  here  is 
my  life  :  speak,  and  I  will  hear :  give  me  a  sign, 
and  I  will  hasten  to  obey  :  delay,  and  I  will  wait  in 
patience :  try  me,  and  I  will  submit :  smite  me,  and 
I  will  endure  it  in  faith  :  I  will  look  to  Thee  :  I  will 
approach  Thy  cross  and  learn  patience,  forbearance, 
and  meekness  :  I  will  resist  evil,  as  Thou  hast  done 
it :  I  will  conquer  by  Thy  Spirit,  that  I  may  receive 
the  crown  of  everlasting  life. 

Go  to  the  Lord  and  speak  thus  to  Him.  Sweet 
will  be  your  sleep,  and  still  sweeter  your  death. 
See  the  poor  laborer :  he  returns  home  from  the 
field ;  the  day  was  hot  and  long,  and  hard  was  his 
toil ;  he  seats  himself  before  his  door  to  enjoy  the 


148      THE    AUTHOR    OF     THE    INNER    LIFE. 

cool  evening ;  he  looks  upon  the  sky  and  upon  the 
beautiful  clouds  that  accompany  the  sun  as  he  sinks 
down  to  rest;  then  he  forgets  his  labor  and  his 
fatigue,  and  his  mind  is  absorbed  in  the  beauties  of 
the  sunset. 

So  it  will  be  with  the  Christian.  On  the  evening 
of  his  life  he  will  return  home  to  his  Father,  and, 
seated  before  the  throne  of  God,  he  will  look  upon 
eternity,  and  forget  that  he  ever  was  out  in  the 
field,  which  is  the  earth,  to  labor  and  struggle  there, 
to  be  unhappy  and  worn  down  with  fatigue.  God 
grant  that  such  may  be  the  evening  of  our  life. 
Amen! 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE  ON  THE 

CROSS. 

John  19  :  19-24. 

"  And  Pilate  wrote  a  title  and  put  it  on  the  cross.  And  the  writing 
was,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews.  This  title  then  read 
many  of  the  Jews  :  for  the  place  where  Jesus  was  crucified  was  nigh  to 
the  city ;  and  it  was  written  in  Hebrew,  and  Greek,  and  Latin.  Then 
said  the  chief  priest  of  the  Jews  to  Pilate,  Write  not,  the  King  of  the 
Jews  ;  but  that  he  said,  I  am  King  of  the  Jews.  Pilate  answered. 
What  I  have  written,  I  have  written.  Then  the  soldiers,  wben  they  had 
crucified  Jesus,  took  his  garments,  and  made  four  parts,  to  every 
soldier  a  part,  and  also  his  coat :  now  the  coat  was  without  seam,  woven 
from  the  top  throughout.  They  said  therefore  among  themselves.  Let 
us  not  rend  it,  but  cast  lots  for  it,  whose  it  shall  be :  that  the  Scripture 
might  be  fulfilled,  which  saith,  They  pai'ted  my  raiment  among  them, 
and  for  my  vesture  they  did  cast  lots.  These  things  therefore  the 
soldiers  did." 

Whenever  we  reflect  on  the  moral  value  of  an 
action,  we  ask  above  all,  whether  the  actor  was 
free  or  not ;  whether  he  was  forced  by  any  physical 
or  supernatural  power  ?  In  the  latter  case  the  guilt 
or  merit,  that  may  be  attached  to  the  action, 
belongs  to  the  forcing  power  acting  through  man 
only  as  through  an  instrument.  He  who  acts, 
must  have  freely  resolved  to  act  just  as  he  acted, 
if  the  action  is  justly  to  be  imputed  to  him.  Every 
resolution,  however,  presupposes  deliberation,  and 


150       THE     AUTHOR    OF    THE     INNER     LIFE 

all  deliberation  a  possibility  that  he  who  delibe- 
rates, may  act  thus  or  so,  that  he  is  not  forced  to  act, 
neither  by  anything  within  him  nor  by  anything 
from  without.  The  deliberation  itself,  if  it  be  not 
trifling,  ought  not  only  to  take  into  consideration 
all  the  possible  means  by  which  to  accomplish  a 
purpose  and  to  select  the  best  ones  among  them,  but 
it  ought,  above  all,  to  consider  the  moral  value  of 
the  action  and  its  possible  consequences.  The 
result  of  such  deliberation  we  call  resolution  ;  and 
that  which  prompts  the  resolution,  tlie  motive.  The 
motive  entering  the  action,  becomes  its  soul  and 
constitutes  its  value,  our  guilt  or  our  virtue. 

Every  man  belongs  to  that  moral  order,  which, 
constituted  by  the  divine  law,  is  independent  of 
every  individual  and  has  power  over  every  indi- 
vidual. Every  action  affects  this  order,  either  by 
improving  or  by  deteriorating  it;  but  ajfifecting  this 
order,  an  action  is  in  turn  affected  by  it.  This 
mutual  effect  we  call  the  consequences  of  our  actions. 
To  calculate  these  consequences,  forms  a  part  of 
our  deliberation ;  but  that  we  may  do  this  with 
safety,  we  must  know  all  the  circumstances  under 
which  we  act.  If  we  mistake  them  or  if  we  over- 
look some  of  them,  the  action,  when  realized,  may 
possess  qualities,  which  it  had  not,  whilst  yet 
existing  only  in  our  mind — in  our  deliberations. 
Something  foreign,  which  we  did  not  foresee,  is 
attached  to  it ;  the  opposite  of  what  we  design,  is 
realized  through  it.     Free  in  planning  an  action,  we 


ON     THE     CROSS.  151 

have  no  more  control  over  it  when  once  executed ; 
but  from  the  moment  when  it  enters  this  moral 
order,  it  places  us  under  a  necessity  proceeding 
from  it,  and  we  must  take  the  fruit  it  bears. 

Shortsighted  as  we  are,  we  call  this,  that  an  action 
may  produce  the  opposite  of  what  we  designed  by 
it,  a  mystery.  And  a  mystery  to  us  indeed  it  is, 
but  in  reality  it  is  the  Providence  of  God,  that 
makes  even  our  wicked  designs  serve  His  plans, 
and  brings  forth  good  where  man  meditated  only 
evil.  This  secret  and  mysterious  way  of  God's 
Providence,  I  propose  to  consider  to-day. 

Our  text  says  :  And  Pilate  wrote  a  title  and 
put  it  on  the  cross.  And  the  writing  was  :  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews.  This 
was  the  inscription  on  the  cross.  The  law  re- 
quired, that  the  name  of  the  criminal  and  his  crime 
be  made  known.  The  world,  governed  by  moral 
principles,  insists  on  knowing  who  is  punished, 
and  for  what  crime,  lest  the  judge  may  become  a 
tyrant.  Very  much  had  been  spoken  of  the  execu- 
tion of  Christ,  both  for  and  against  it ;  hence  we 
see  on  the  cross  of  Jesus  the  same  inscription  in 
three  different  languages ; — in  Hebrew,  for  the 
Jews  who  lived  in  Jerusalem ;  in  Greek,  for  the 
Jews  who  lived  dispersed  throughout  other  coun- 
tries, but  were  at  this  time  assembled  in  Jerusalem 
to  celebrate  the  feast ;  in  Latin,  on  account  of  the 


152       THE     AUTHOR    OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

Romans  who  were  present.  So  then,  our  Saviour 
was  treated  like  a  common  criminal  in  every  re- 
spect. There  shall  be  no  heart  to  pity  Him,  but 
every  one  shall  condemn  Him.  Every  trace  of 
respect,  of  applause,  of  attachment,  they  desire  to 
efface.  His  memory  they  intend  to  stigmatize,  to 
curse  His  name,  to  annihilate  His  work,  to  destroy 
His  life.     This  is  the  plan  of  the  world. 

But  let  us  see,  what  was  the  plan  of  God  ?  He 
whom  they  execute  as  a  criminal,  shall  come  forth 
gloriously  as  the  Messiah  of  the  world.  This  was 
the  plan  of  God,  and  the  wicked  Judges  and  Jews 
had  to  bear  a  painful  disappointment ;  whilst 
they  thought  to  reach  their  designs,  they  were  only 
engaged  in  fulfilling  the  counsel  of  His  infinite 
wisdom ;  whilst  they  wished  to  destroy  the  power  of 
Christ  by  taking  His  life,  they  were  laying  the  foun- 
dation of  His  divine  revelation.  Had  Christ  not 
been  crucified,  the  kingdom  of  truth  and  of  love 
would  never  have  been  established  on  earth.  He 
died,  not  because  He  could  not  shun  the  malice  of 
the  Jews,  but  that  He  might  reconcile  the  world  to 
God ;  and  the  Father  makes  use  of  their  arm  to 
slay  Him  whose  pure  and  innocent  blood  was  to  be 
the  ransom  for  our  sins.  Now  the  sinner  is  justi- 
fied by  faith  without  the  deeds  of  the  law.  Those 
that  sit  in  darkness  are  brought  out  of  the  prison- 
house.  All  things  have  become  new.  There  is  no 
more  debt.  The  Father  smiles  again  ;  and  the  Son 
calls  :  Look  unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends 


ON    THE    CROSS.  153 

of  the  earth.  Now  the  words,  written  in  scorn  on 
the  cross,  lighten  as  if  they  were  written  with  the 
shining  rays  of  the  rising  sun,  and  proclaim  loudly  : 
He  whom  they  have  crucified  icas  the  King  of  the 
Jews — the  Messiah  of  the  world — the  Son  of  God. 
His  death  passes  as  the  breath  of  life  through  all 
nations  and  ages.  His  lips,  though  pale  and 
closed,  proclaim  peace  and  salvation  unto  man ! 

What  may  we  learn  from  this  part  of  our  dis- 
course ?  God's  ways  are  dark,  but  they  lead  to 
glory.  God  permits  what  is  awful,  but  makes  it 
harmonize  with  His  plan.  He  is  the  Almighty, 
and  as,  by  the  beams  of  the  sun.  He  changes  the 
dark  cloud,  that  threatens  destruction,  into  a  beau- 
tiful rainbow,  the  arch,  that  connects  time  and 
eternity,  heaven  and  earth,  so  He  may  turn  all 
apparent  evil  into  good.  Therefore  dismiss  your 
doubts  ;  do  not  resist  the  will  of  God ;  do  not 
murmur ;  for  the  Father  guides  you,  and  the  Son 
loves  you.  But  to  possess  this  tranquillity  of  mind 
you  must  look  upon  the  cross,  you  must  feel  your- 
self attracted  by  it. 

Let  us  cast  a  glance  at  the  Priests. 

If  we  reflect  upon  the  conduct  of  the  priests, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  we  must  come  to 
the  conclusion,  that  they  acted  from  hatred  to 
Christ.  They  took  Him  captive,  not  because  He 
appeared  to  them  to  deserve  punishment,  for  they 
had  to  bribe  their  witnesses.    They  arraigned  Him 


154   THE  AUTHOR  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE 

before  the  Sanhedrim,  not  to  judge  Him  according 
to  law ;  for  they  were  fully  determined  to  pro- 
nounce Him  guilty.  They  handed  Him  over  to 
Pilate,  not  that  He  might  be  acquitted  or  con- 
demned according  to  his  deserts,  but  that  he  might 
be  led  to  Golgotha.  The  motive  of  their  conduct 
is  hatred,  their  war-cry.  Crucify  Him  !  And  why 
did  they  hate  Him  ?  They  could  not  comprehend 
Him ;  He  was  too  noble,  too  divine,  for  that 
sensual  race  ;  they  had  no  heart  to  feel  with  Him ; 
they  were  too  proud  to  learn  of  Him  ;  they  were 
too  degenerate  to  form  an  attachment  to  Him.  But 
whoever  is  not  with  Him,  is  against  Him.  Who- 
ever does  not  work  for  Him,  must  work  against 
Him.  Christ,  moreover,  had  often  humbled  them. 
He  had  taken  away  from  them  the  attention  of 
the  people.  Hence  they  seek  an  opportunity  to 
vent  their  rage — to  glut  their  hatred.  Hence  they 
exult,  when  they  see  Him  going  forth  bearing  the 
cross.  Hence  they  follow  Him  triumphing.  Though 
the  way  was  long,  the  anticipated  satisfaction  is 
sweet. 

But  what  first  strikes  their  eye?  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth, the  King  of  the  Jews.  What  a  disappoints 
ment !  They  came  to  triumph  over  Christ,  but 
they  are  humbled  by  a  few  words ;  their  pride  is 
Avounded,  their  arrogance  is  shaken.  The  King  of 
the  Jews  :  and  who  were  the  Priests  ?  Jews  them- 
selves. They  had  brought  about  the  crucifixion  of 
Him,  whom  the  cross  declares  to  be  their  King. 


ON"     THF,     CRORF;.  155 

As  murderers  of  their  own  King,  they  stood  before 
the  cross,  not  as  holy  priests,  who  had  accused  a 
fanaticorthe  instigator  of  a  revolution.  "Jerusalem, 
Jerusalem,  thou  killest  thy  prophets,  and  stonest 
them  which  are  sent  unto  thee."  There  they  stand. 
A  little  tablet  pronounces  judgment  upon  them. 
The  anticipated  satisfaction  is  changed  into  bitter 
disappointment.  As  an  arrow  directed  against 
an  enemy,  rebounds  and  wounds  the  breast  of 
the  archer;  as  a  lie,  spoken  to  injure  another, 
brings  shame  upon  him  that  uttered  it; — so  their 
desire  to  wound  Christ,  to  the  utmost,  results  in 
their  own  reproach  and  shame. 

What  may  we  learn  from  the  second  part  of  our 
discussion  ? — That  the  judgment  of  God  is  secret, 
but  awful;  that  He  gives  room  to  the  criminal,  yet 
forces  the  consciousness  of  his  guilt  upon  him.  A 
little  tablet  or  an  innocent  word,  the  rustling  of  a 
leaf,  or  the  apparition  of  a  ghost,  may  remind  him 
of  his  guilt.  Though  the  chariot,  in  which  God 
the  Almighty  rides  invisibly  over  the  face  of  the 
earth,  over  the  heads  of  men,  over  the  ocean  of 
time,  is  unseen,  still  every  vibration  and  revolution 
of  the  wheels  teach  us,  that  God  is  indeed  mer- 
ciful, but  also  just;  that  He  does  not  desire  the 
death  of  the  sinner,  but  that  it  is  a  fearful  thing 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God.  He  who 
misunderstands  this  doctrine  is  judged  already. 

0  that  it  may  be  the  lot  of  our  life,  to  preserve 
purity  in  our  thoughts,  innocence  in  our  words,  holi- 


156       THE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

ness  in  our  deeds,  and  a  heart  that  overflows  with 
faith  and  love. 

Let  us  turn  our  attention  to  Pilate. — It  was  his 
duty  to  honor  the  truth  and  deal  out  justice,  when- 
ever it  had  been  violated.  But  he  was  a  weak 
man,  without  decision  of  character,  rising  and  sink- 
ing with  those  relations  that  surrounded  him. 
He  finds  no  fault  in  Christ,  and  yet  condemns  Him. 
He  dislikes  the  accusers,  but  fears  the  ground  on 
which  they  argue  with  him.  He  desires  to  avenge 
himself  for  the  vexatious  necessity  of  yielding 
to  them,  but  he  is  not  man  enough  to  do  it  in  an 
open  way ;  he  only  dares  to  provoke  them.  Christ 
is  to  him  nothing  more  than  an  imaginary  King ; 
but  as  if,  in  his  opinion,  just  such  a  king,  a  king  on 
the  cross,  would  suit  the  Jews,  he  wrote  the  title  on 
the  tablet :  The  King  of  the  Jews.  Those  for  whom 
he  had  invented  the  mockery,  feel  it.  They  say, 
therefore,  "Write  not  the  King  of  the  Jews,  but 
that  he  said,  I  am  King  of  the  Jews."  But  Pilate, 
like  a  man  that  has  power,  answers  their  request 
simply  by  saying.  What  I  have  written,  I  have 
ivritten. 

From  weakness,  and  because  he  was  the  slave  of 
this  weakness,  Pilate  had  written,  what  he  had 
written;  but  what  he  wrote  in  malice,  was  the 
truth;  and  without  knowing  or  willing  it,  he  be- 
comes the  hero  that  announces  this  truth.  What 
he  disbelieves,  he  must  confirm.  What  he  cannot 
conceive,  he  announces  publicly.     What  he  scoffs 


ON    THE    CROSS.  157 

at,  he  is  forced  to  make  known.     He  mocks  him- 
self, whilst  he  intends  to  mock  the  Jews. 

What  may  we  learn  from  the  third  part  of  our 
discussion  ?  That  though  God  limits  the  liberty 
and  free  will  of  no  one,  He  nevertheless  governs 
every  one  in  all  his  actions.  This  indeed  is  a  mys- 
tery :  God  created  His  children  for  liberty ;  still 
His  counsels  and  plans  take  their  actions  into  ac- 
count. The  evil  and  the  good  must  both  serve 
Him.  His  is  the  first-born,  and  His  are  the  mur- 
derers of  Christ.  The  mystery,  however,  disappears, 
when  we  make  the  Father's  will  our  own.  The 
sinner  lives  in  darkness,  acts  in  darkness,  and  dies 
in  darkness;  he  is  surrounded  by  mysterious  secrets. 
The  man  of  faith  lives  in  light.  Everything  in  ex- 
istence has  its  peculiar  nature.  It  is  the  nature 
of  fire  to  burn ;  of  wind  to  blow ;  and  of  water  to 
moisten.  The  nature  of  freedom  is  light,  obtained 
by  truth  proceeding  from  faith. 

He  is  a  freeman  whom  the  truth  makes  free, 
•    And  all  are  slaves  beside. 

Let  us  yet  look  for  a  moment  upon  the  soldiers. 
It  was  an  established  custom,  that  the  dress  of  the 
executed  victim  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  execu- 
tioners. The  soldiers  under  the  cross  of  Christ,  do 
therefore,  what  they  were  accustomed  to  do,  with- 
out any  particular  design.  They  first  distribute 
among  each  other  the  upper  garment.  It  consisted 
of  a  square  piece  of  cloth,  and  was  therefore  easily 

14 


158       TOE     AUTHOR     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE 

divided  into  four  parts.  But  the  case  was  different 
with  the  coat;  this  was  without  seam,  woven  from 
the  top  throughout,  after  the  manner  of  the  Gali- 
leans. To  cut  it  into  four  parts  would  have  spoiled 
it,  and  made  it  useless.  For  this  reason  they  agree 
to  cast  lots,  to  decide  thus,  who  shall  be  so  happy 
as  to  have  it.  We  see  the  soldiers  act  without  any 
particular  design. 

But  we   ask,  what  was  and  is  the  symbolical 
meaning  of  their  action  ? 

Before  answering  this  question  I  must  indulge  in 
one  general  remark.     To  the  eye  of  the  spiritual 
man  everything,  even   apparently  the  most  insig- 
nificant, gains  importance  and  meaning.     He  sees 
a  Divine  Providence  and  a  wise  plan  in  the  history 
of  the  world,  as  well  as  in  the  Word  of  God ;  he 
sees  a  higher  power  manifesting  itself  in  the  in- 
nocent play  of  a  little  child,  as  well  as  in  the  deeds 
of  nations.     He  reads  the  glory  of  God  in  the  flower 
of  the  field,  as  well  as  in  the  millions  of  stars  in 
the  sky.     His  genius  recognizes  in  the  visible  cre- 
ation that  which  is  invisible,  and  discovers  an  ani- 
mating soul  in  all  the  forms  of  earth.     It  is  other- 
wise with  the  merely  sensual  man.    For  him  nothing 
has  a  symbolical  meaning,  not  even  the  altar  of  our 
Lord,  nor  the  bread  on  it,  nor  the  wine.     He  sees 
nothing  but  what  is  on  the   surface,  what  can  be 
touched  with  his  fingers,  or  heard  with  his  ear,  or 
seen  with  his  eye. 

In  asking :  What  is  the  symbolical  meaning  of 


ON     THE     CUOSS.  1  •")!) 

the  action  which  the  soldiers  undesignedly  per- 
formed? we  think  first  of  all  of  the  Psalm  :  "  They 
part  my  garments  among  them,  and  cast  lots  upon 
my  vesture"  (22:  18).  Thus  the  Scripture  was 
fulfilled.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  earthly  heritage 
of  our  Lord  reminds  us  naturally  of  the  heavenly 
treasure  which  He  leaves  to  His  friends.  The  little 
property  of  Him  who  hath  not  where  to  lay  His 
head,  points  to  the  riches  which  we  have  inherited 
through  Him.  They  divided  the  upper  garment 
into  four  parts,  and  there  are  four  divisions  of  the 
world,  which  are  destined  to  inherit  the  Lord's 
kingdom.  Thef/  cast  lots.  The  lot  leaves  the  deci- 
sion of  a  thing  to  chance.  Li  chance,  however, 
there  is  something  mysterious.  Its  result  is  thus, 
but  it  might  also  be  otherwise.  Why  is  it  not 
otherwise?  This  question  contains  the  mystery. 
And  secret  and  mysterious  is  the  counsel  of  God, 
that  calls  some  earlier  and  others  later  into  the 
communion  of  the  saints. 

Again :  The  upper  garment  the  soldiers  could 
divide ;  but  the  coat,  made  of  one  piece,  without 
seam,  woven  from  the  top  throughout,  they  could 
not  cut  into  pieces.  This  beautiful  and  lovely  pic- 
ture points  to  the  internal  history  of  the  Church. 
The  upper  garment  is  the  external  form,  in  which 
one  denomination  differs  from  the  other :  this  can 
be  torn  into  pieces.  The  coat  points  to  the  Spirit 
of  Christ ;  this  cannot  be  torn  into  pieces,  but  every 
one  must  have  it  whole  and  entire.    That  by  which 


16U       THE     AUTHOK     OF    THE     INNER     LIFE 

different  Christian  denominations  are  separated 
from  each  other,  is  of  comparatively  little  impor- 
tance, the  mere  external  form;  but  that  by  which 
they  are  still  united,  and  in  virtue  of  which  they 
are  all  called  Christ  kins,  is  o7ie  spirit,  one  faith, 
one  love,  and  one  hope.  Differing  in  form  and 
points  of  minor  importance,  we  must  be  united  in 
spirit,  or  else  we  cannot  be  Christians. 

What  may  we  learn  from  the  last  part  of  this 
sermon  ?  We  must  embrace  Christ  entirely  or  not 
at  all.  We  must  be  convinced  that  the  Saviour  of 
the  world  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  that  only  the  Son 
of  God  can  be  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  We  must 
be  convinced  that  all  the  light  which  can  illumine 
our  life,  all  the  power  which  can  purify  our  sinful 
nature,  all  the  consolation  which  can  support  us  in 
our  need,  and  all  the  blessings  of  which  we  can 
partake  in  time  and  eternity,  proceed  from  Christ 
alone.  We  must  believe  that  there  is  no  other  gate 
leading  to  Heaven,  but  the  cross  of  Christ.  His 
Spirit,  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  must  reveal  to  us  our 
destination  here  on  Earth ;  it  must  give  us  the 
security  of  our  salvation  in  Heaven.  What  our 
duty  is,  we  can  know  only  through  Christ.  He 
must  satisfy  our  wants,  govern  our  thoughts,  and  de- 
termine us  in  our  relations  and  conduct. 

But  notice,  my  friends,  what  necessarily  follows 
from  this.  If  Christ  is  entirely  oars,  we  must  be 
entirely  His.  If  Christ  is  our  property,  our  will 
must  be  His  property,  with  its  whole  activity.     Is 


ON   tup:   cross.  IGl 

Christ  ours,  then  our  heart,  our  love,  our  joy,  our 
peace,  our  patience,  our  cheerfulness,  our  humility, 
our  meekness,  and  our  purity,  must  he  His.  If  He 
is  ours.  He  will  make  us  humhle  in  prosperity,  un- 
conquerable in  adversity ;  He  will  teach  us  to  live 
in  the  feeling,  that  whilst  we  die  daily,  we  die  in 
the  sure  hope  that  we  are  not  of  this  world,  but 
that  our  destiny  is  immortaUty . 

This  is  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  which  cannot  be  torn 
into  pieces,  and  which  every  one  must  have  who  is 
a  Christian ;  not,  indeed,  in  the  same  manner  and 
in  the  same  form ;  for  as  different  as  the  disposi- 
tions and  relations  of  men  are,  so  different  will  be 
the  forms  under  w^iich  Christ  is  ours.  There  are 
perhaps  not  two  among  us  here,  to  whom  Christ  is 
exactly  the  same,  but  to  every  one  He  may  reveal 
Himself  fully,  according  to  his  talents,  disposition, 
and  situation.  There  are  diversities  of  operations, 
but  one  end  and  one  Spirit.  Like  the  many  branches 
of  a  tree,  each  reaching  in  a  different  direction,  but 
all  growing  forth  from  one  trunk,  and  bending  back 
towards  it,  thus  forming  the  crown,  the  ornament  of 
the  tree — is  the  Church  of  Christ ;  there  are  many 
branches,  but  one  bond — many  members,  but  one 
body — many  forms,  but  one  soul. 

May  God  grant  us  such  a  faith  in  all  our  rela- 
tions— when  our  life  blooms,  and  when  its  leaves 
"withering  fall  to  the  ground — when  that  hour  ap- 
proaches, which  we  do  not  see  but  still  fear,  the 
hour  of  death. 


THE  LOVE  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

John  19  :  25-27. 

"Now  there  stood  by  the  cross  of  Jesus  his  mother,  and  his  mother's 
sister,  Mary  the  wife  of  Cleophas,  and  Mary  Magdalene.  When  Jesus 
therefore  saw  his  mother,  and  the  disciple  standing  by  whom  he  loved, 
he  saith  unto  his  mother.  Woman,  behold  thy  son  I  Then  saith  he  to 
the  disciple.  Behold  thy  mother !  And  from  that  hour  that  disciple  took 
her  unto  his  own  home." 

Everything  created  by  God,  lias  an  existence 
peculiar  to  itself.  Air,  fire,  water,  the  plant,  and 
the  animal.  Each  is  and  exists,  but  no  one  thing 
is,  or  exists,  like  another.  Man  also  has  an  exist- 
ence peculiar  to  himself,  and  differing  from  that  of 
all  nature  around  him.  According  to  his  body,  he 
exists  like  the  animal,  eats  and  drinks,  sleeps  and 
wakes,  blooms  and  fades,  dies  and  decays.  But  ac- 
cording to  his  spirit,  he  lives  in  a  different  sphere 
from  that  of  mere  desire  and  sensual  wants.  The 
life  of  the  spirit  is  love.  Without  love,  we  are 
spiritually  dead. 

But  not  all  love  is  pure  and  elevating.  Pure 
love  is  the  inclination  for  something  higher  than 
we  are  ourselves,  or  possess  in  ourselves;  it  is  a 
longing  after  union  with  God,  a  longing  to  remove 
the  barrier  between  us  and  God,  and  to  be  reconciled 
to  Him  through  the  redemption  of  our  Lord  Jesus 


THE     LOVE     OF     THE     INNER     LIFE.  163 

Christ.  Such  love  must  be  kindled  in  us  by  the 
love  of  Christ,  and  by  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
In  order  to  exhibit  more  strikingly  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  love  of  the  worldling  and  that  of  the 
Christian,  1  have  chosen  the  words  which  you  will 
find  in  the  19th  chapter  of  the  Goospel  by  St.  John, 
from  the  25th  to  the  27th  verse  :  "Now  there  stood 
by  the  cross  of  Jesus  his  mother,  and  his  mother's 
sister,  Mary  the  wife  of  Cleophas,  and  Mary  Mag- 
dalene. When  Jesus  therefore  saw  his  mother, 
and  the  disciple  standing  by  whom  he  loved,  he 
saith  unto  his  mother,  Woman,  behold  thy  son ! 
Then  saith  he  to  the  disciple,  Behold  thy  mother ! 
And  from  that  hour  that  disciple  took  her  unto 
his  own  home." 

In  the  first  place,  let  us  consider  the  strength  of 
Christian  love. 

The  love  of  the  worldling  frequently  consists  not 
in  strength,  but  in  vain  imaginations,  and  in  empty 
expressions  of  affection.  It  is  rich  in  words,  but 
poor  in  deeds ;  it  is  ready  with  the  tongue,  but  slow 
in  redeeming  its  pledges.  The  love  of  Christ,  and 
also  that  of  His  true  followers,  is  diametrically  op- 
posed to  it  in  every  particular.  See  our  Saviour 
stretched  on  the  cross.  It  was  love  which  prompted 
Him  to  give  Himself  a  ransom  for  our  sins ;  to  suffer 
for  us  in  a  measure  which  we  cannot  comprehend. 
It  was  love  which  prompted  the  desire,  that  the 
sinner  might  become  just  by  His  blood,  that  the  slave 


164  THE     LOVE    OF 

might  be  made  free,  that  the  poor  might  become 
heirs  of  Heaven,  that  all  things  might  become  new, 
that  there  might  be  no  more  fear,  and  that  the  Fa- 
ther's face  might  smile  upon  us  again.  Whilst 
agonizing  in  pain,  his  last  sigh  is  :  "  Father  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do."  His  last 
breath  testifies  to  His  undying  love,  which  sends 
into  the  breast  of  every  true  believer  the  words  of 
peace,  "  Spend  not  your  days  in  fear,  nor  your 
nights  in  sighing,  but  hope  and  rejoice." 

The  same  love,  we  may  discover,  in  the  true  fol- 
lowers of  Christ.  Transfer  yourselves  for  a  moment 
to  Calvary.  See  the  skulls  scattered  about ;  hear 
the  whispered  revilings  of  Christ ;  notice  the  fright- 
ful priests  and  their  malignant  eyes,  as  they  watch 
the  cross ;  and  then,  behold  the  women,  standing 
beneath  their  dying  Saviour.  Delicate  and  tender 
as  is  the  nature  of  woman,  shrinking  as  she  does 
from  public  exposure  to  the  insults  of  a  promis- 
cuous and  disorderly  multitude,  how  strong  must 
have  been  the  attachment  that  could  rivet  them  to 
the  spot,  where  their  divine  Master  was  expiring 
under  His  accumulated  sufferings!  This  is  the 
time  when  a  sword  was  to  pierce  through  their 
souls,  a  time  dark  and  gloomy,  and  full  of  danger 
for  those  who  publicly  professed  their  love  to  the 
Saviour.  But  love,  strong  as  theirs,  subjects  itself  to 
every  pain  and  to  every  duty  without  hesitation. 
They  cannot  endure  absence  from  their  crucified 
Redeemer;  though  they  cannot  assist  Him,  they 


TUE     INNER     LIFE.  165 

must  nevertheless  be  with  Him.  True  Christian 
love  knows  of  no  place  of  peace  or  pleasure  away 
from  its  divine  Master. 

How  different  is  the  love  of  the  world !  It  al- 
ways rests  upon  the  lip,  but  its  fountain  is  not  the 
heart;  when  put  to  the  test,  a  thousand  excuses 
present  themselves  to  render  its  expression  in  cor- 
responding actions  impossible.  Deceiving  itself,  it 
deceives  others  for  a  time,  for  man  in  the  darkness 
of  nature  is  the  slave  of  selfishness,  and  acts  wholly 
under  its  control. 

Christian  love  never  clianges.  It  is  not  like  the 
rosy  morn,  that  grows  pale  before  the  heat  of  the 
day ;  it  is  not  like  varnish,  that  may  be  rubbed 
off  by  the  hand  of  time;  it  is  no  tinsel,  that  the 
wind  may  blow  away.  But  like  pure  and  solid 
gold,  the  more  it  is  put  to  the  test  the  brighter  it 
shines.  How  many  changes  had  taken  place  in  the 
life  of  our  Redeemer,  yet  His  mother  does  not  for- 
sake Him ;  Mary  the  wife  of  Cleophas,  Mary  Mag- 
dalene, and  the  beloved  disciple,  stand  near  Him. 
No  misfortune  can  sever  the  ties  that  unite  them ; 
whilst  circumstances  change,  their  love  remains  the 
same.  It  was  easy  indeed  for  the  women  to  love, 
when  the  future  smiled  like  a  blooming  day;  when 
the  glory  of  Christ  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
and  from  land  to  land  ;  but  whither  has  it  fled,  this 
season  of  happiness  ?  On  the  cross  of  reproach,  no 
honor  blooms  ;  no  sun  of  joy  shines  on  Golgotha  ; 
for  the  worldling,  Christ  no  longer  possesses  any  at- 


166  THE     LOVE     OF 

traction.  Death  approaches  Him,  and  the  multitude 
that  but  a  few  days  ago  applauded  Him,  now 
scoff  at  Him ;  but  the  love  of  the  women  increases 
in  strength  and  energy,  in  proportion  as  life  be- 
comes darker,  its  claims  higher,  and  its  calls  louder. 

How  different  is  the  love  of  the  world  !  It  is  the 
ornament  of  the  first  few  days  of  a  connection,  but  it 
does  not  continue  to  cheer  the  whole  life.  It  depends 
on  circumstances — rises  and  sinks  with  them.  This 
love  blesses  those  who  are  near,  but  forgets  those  at 
a  distance ;  it  willingly  partakes  of  our  joys,  but 
shrinks  from  sharing  our  adversities ;  it  carries  the 
living  in  its  bosom,  but  is  unwilling  to  remember 
those  with  mourning  and  gratitude,  who  have  gone 
to  the  grave.  True  Christian  love  is  strongest 
when  worldly  love  is  weakest,  in  misfortunes  and  in 
the  troubles  of  life. 

Again :  The  strength  of  Christian  love  may  be 
seen  in  its  immortality.  Death  may  separate  hands 
that  clasp  each  other;  hearts  it  cannot  sever.  Death 
may  force  friends  to  part  with  friends,  but  the  living 
may  still  gather  around  the  graves  of  the  deceased, 
and  the  spirit  of  the  deceased  may  still  abide  with 
those  who  survive ;  may  speak  to  them  in  what 
they  have  done  for  them,  in  the  example  they  have 
set,  and  in  the  care  they  have  taken  of  them.  Thus 
also  the  love  of  the  women  retains  its  energy,  even 
after  the  death  of  Christ.  As  they  stood  near  the 
cross,  speechless  in  their  grief  and  unable  to  relieve 
the  tortures  of  their  Saviour,  or  to  comfort  Him,  so 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  167 

the}^  followed  Him  to  the  sepulchre  in  which  He 
was  laid.  Then  they  returned  and  prepared  spices 
and  ointments,  and  rested  the  Sabbath  day,  accord- 
ing to  the  commandment.  Now,  upon  the  first  day 
of  the  week,  very  early  in  the  morning,  they  came 
unto  the  sepulchre,  bringing  the  spices  which  they 
had  prepared.  What  joy  must  even  the  Son  of  God 
have  felt,  when  He,  the  all-seeing  One,  read  dis- 
tinctly in  their  hearts  what  their  lips  did  not  utter, 
that  their  love  would  go  beyond  death ! 

Such  love  is  unknown  to  the  world.  Their  love 
is  based  on  sand,  and  endures  like  a  rope  of  sand. 
Its  alliances  are  formed  from  self-interest ;  its 
choices  are  determined  by  sensual  attractions ;  its 
connections  are  entered  into  for  pleasure  and  for 
usefulness.  It  considers  friends  valuable  only  for 
their  beauty  or  talents;  for  their  gracefulness  or 
their  fitness  for  certain  purposes ;  hence  it  is  vain 
and  transient  and  void.  Christian  love  is  based  on 
what  is  eternal,  and  will  therefore  endure  to  eter- 
nity. It  considers  all  tender  and  good  feelings 
sacred;  all  its  duties  inviolable;  all  its  relations 
as  formed  for  Mglier  designs.  Such  love  does  not 
merely  desire  friends,  to  eat  and  to  drink  with 
them ;  to  deal  and  to  live  with  them — but  friends 
who  adore  the  same  Lord,  who  walk  in  the  same 
faith,  strive  after  the  same  holiness,  and  rejoice  in 
the  same  hope.  Friends,  united  by  such  love,  con- 
sider themselves  the  fellow-heirs  of  Christ ;  they 
regard  each  other  thus  while  they  live,  honor  each 


108  THE    LOVE    OF 

other  thus  when  they  suffer,  and  resign  each  other 
thus  when  they  die.  Such  is  the  strength  of  Chris- 
tian love. 

Let  us  now  consider  the  confidence  of  Christian 
love. 

It  is  easy  to  say :  Love  believes  all  things,  but  it 
is  difficult  to  do  accordingly;  for  we  are  prone  to 
distrust  and  suspicion.  Christian  love,  however, 
believes  all  things,  hopes  all  things,  endures  all 
things ;  and  such  was  the  love  of  the  women  be- 
neath the  cross.  We  have  been  taught  from  our 
childhood,  that  to  save  us  from  sin  and  eternal 
damnation,  it  was  necessary  that  Christ  should  die ; 
that  His  blood  was  the  sacrifice  for  our  guilt,  and 
that  His  obedience  and  righteousness  are  now  im- 
puted to  us.  For  as  by  one  man  sin  and  misery 
had  come  into  the  world,  and  as  sin  was  imputed 
to  all  men,  so  through  the  death  of  Christ  came  life 
and  salvation.  But  this  eternal  and  ever-blessed 
truth  was  a  mystery  to  the  women ;  it  was  yet  to 
be  fully  revealed  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  When,  now, 
Christ  became  a  curse  for  us ;  when  He  in  whom 
they  believed  as  the  Son  of  God,  was  thus  humbled 
and  so  despised  that  men  hid  their  faces  from  Him, 
and  preferred  a  murderer ;  when  He  became  sub- 
ject to  bitterest  wrath,  and,  denounced  as  a  blas- 
phemer and  a  false  Christ,  was  nailed  to  the  cross 
by  the  hands  of  heathen,  like  a  criminal, — then  it 
required  confidence,  on  the  part  of  the  women,  to 
avow  their  former  attachment.     They  had  not  ex- 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  169 

pected  Christ  to  establish  a  temporal  kingdom,  but 
that  He  would  restore  an  eternal  kingdom.  A  Sa- 
viour on  the  cross,  however — salvation  and  life 
through  the  death  of  Him  who  gives  it — this  they 
could  not  comprehend.  Whilst  they  stand  beneath 
the  cross,  they  stand,  it  cannot  be  denied,  on  the 
ruins  of  their  hopes.  No  words  to  console  them, 
are  heard  from  the  lips  of  the  expiring  Saviour, 
surrounded  by  the  darkness  of  death.  He  whose 
glory  is  clouded,  whom  men  have  rejected,  whom 
God  seems  to  have  forsaken,  makes  no  effort  to  ex- 
plain to  them  the  necessity  of  all  this,  and  of  His 
death.  He  gives  them  no  promise  that  the  present 
darkness  shall  be  changed  into  light,  and  yet  their 
confidence  remains  unshaken.  The  Saviour  dies; 
and  because  He  did  not  shun  death,  they  are  con- 
vinced that  it  is  necessary  He  should  die.  No 
doubts  rise  in  their  breasts,  or  if  there  be  any,  they 
put  them  under  the  obedience  of  love.  They  have 
more  of  -Christ  in  their  hearts,  than  what  they  can 
see  of  Him  with  their  eyes.  The  mystery  must  be 
solved ;  the  time  must  come,  when  they  shall  see 
clearly  what  now  is  concealed  from  their  eyes : — 
this  is  their  hope,  this  is  their  faith. 

0  that  all  of  us  may  possess  such  a  confidence, 
such  a  hope  in  our  Redeemer !  That  all  of  us 
may  confide  in  Him,  whether  fortune  smiles  or 
frowns  upon  us — whether  we  can  understand  the 
sufferings  laid  upon  us  by  Providence,  or  the  ways 
of  God  are  mysterious  and  dark  to  us. 

15 


170  THE     LOVE     OF 

The  confidence  of  Christian  love  may  be  seen 
also  from  the  following  consideration.  Tlie  love  of 
the  world  grows  ,cold  when  it  is  burdened  with 
labor  and  duties.  Worldly  friends  depart  from  us, 
when  we  ask  them  to  labor  for  us,  instead  of  parti- 
cipating in  our  pleasures,  or  to  complete  what  we 
have  left  undone,  instead  of  receiving  the  benefits 
of  our  labors.  But  true  Christian  love  is  different : 
"  When  Jesus,  therefore,  saw  his  mother  and  the 
disciple  standing  by  whom  he  loved,  he  saith  unto 
his  mother.  Woman,  behold  thy  son  !  Then  saith 
he  to  the  disciple  :  Behold  thy  mother !"  A  few 
words,  but  a  great,  a  solemn  obligation.  Who  that 
knows  the  cares,  the  troubles,  the  anxiety  and  soli- 
citude of  a  mother;  who  that  knows  the  duties  of 
a  son  towards  a  mother,  who  in  her  old  age  needs 
an  arm  to  support  her,  to  protect  her,  to  provide 
for  her  wants,  can  for  a  moment  doubt  the  extent 
of  such  a  duty  ?  And  yet  the  relation  between  son 
and  mother  rests  not  merely  on  the  performance  of 
their  mutual  duties;  it  rests  on  love.  Unless  they 
love  each  other,  they  cannot  work  for  each  other, 
nor  can  they  render  each  other  happy. 

But  I  have  yet  to  show  you  another  heavenly 
beauty  in  t  he  love  of  the  Christian, — faithfulness, 
the  crown  of  the  whole. 

Confidence  and  faithfulness  presuppose  each 
other;  they  are  linked  together  like  cause  and 
effect ;  and  in  proportion  as  a  man  is  faithful,  will 
he  be  noble  in  his  confidence.    One  that  makes  it 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  171 

a  rule  to  confide  in  no  one,  will  certainly  himself 
be  fit  for  treachery  and  deception,  and  therefore,  un- 
worthy of  confidence.  Christian  love,  as  it  con- 
fides, will  also  consider  its  promises  sacred,  and 
will  perform  them  without  many  words,  without 
delay,  and  without  weariness. 

It  is  not  the  love  of  many  words  or  of  great 
eloquence,  that  is  the  most  faithful.  Peter  was 
always  ready  to  profess  his  unchangeable  attach- 
ment to  Christ,  yet  during  that  dark  hour,  he  is 
not  present  at  the  cross.  But  John,  whom  we 
never  find  disposed  to  speak  much  of  his  love  to 
the  Saviour,  stands  by  the  side  of  the  cross.  The 
love  of  the  world  lives  on  the  tongue,  and  is  always 
inclined  to  provoke  moments  of  trial.  Christian 
love  lives  deep  in  the  heart ;  it  is  neither  too  san- 
guine in  its  hopes,  for  it  is  meek  ;  nor  does  it  easily 
despair,  for  it  believes  in  a  divine  Providence ;  but 
in  the  hour  of  trial  it  redeems  all  its  pledges.  And 
see  how  John  fulfilled  the  request  of  Jesus.  "  From 
that  hour  that  disciple  took  her  unto  his  own 
home."  The  value  of  a  gift  depends  no  less  on  the 
time  when  it  is  given,  than  on  the  disposition 
with  which  it  is  given.  A  gift  given  when  it  is 
needed,  and  in  the  spirit  of  kindness,  like  the  dew 
of  heaven  is  twice  blessed ;  it  blesses  him  that 
gives  and  him  that  takes  it.  Christ  expresses  the 
wish,  and  from  that  liour  John  took  her  to  his  own 
home.  The  words, /ro??i  that  hour,  distinctly  indi- 
cate, that  John  acted  without  reflection,  without 
hesitation,  without  seeking  or  finding  any  impedi- 


172  THE    LOVE    OF 

ments  :  the  will  of  Christ  is  his  law,  to  fulfil  it  is  his 
delight.  We  do  not  know,  indeed,  how  long  Mary 
lived  after  this.  Her  grave  is  shown  to  pilgrims 
in  Jerusalem ;  where  John  owned  a  house  and 
lived  in  pious  communion  with  Peter.  Others 
however,  are  of  the  opinion,  that  Mary  followed 
John  to  Ephesus,  and  died  but  shortly  before  this 
disciple  went  to  his  eternal  home.  Which  opinion 
may  be  true,  we  cannot  ascertain  ;  but  one  thing 
we  do  know,  that  the  disciple  whom  Christ  loved, 
never  wearied  of  the  mother  whom  the  dying 
Saviour  gave  him. 

Such  was  the  love  of  John,  and  such  should  be 
the  love  of  every  Christian.  Then  the  time  would 
soon  come,  when  the  wolf  shall  dwell  with  the 
lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid ; 
when  the  earth  shall  be  full  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  Lord,  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea.  Then  would 
the  time  soon  come,  when, 

Eastern  Java  there 
Kneels  with  the  native  of  the  farthest  west, 
And  Ethiopia  spreads  abroad  the  hand 
And  worships.     When  from  every  clime  they  come 
To  see  thy  beauty  and  to  share  thy  joy, 
0  Sion. — 

We  have  now  seen  that  Christian  love  is  strong, 
confidwg,  and  faithful.  With  what  reflections  shall 
we  dismiss  this  subject  ! — 

May  we  all  love  Christ  as  the  women  and  the 
disciple  did  who  stood  by  the  cross.  Then  our  love 
will  be  strong,  confiding,  and  faithful.     Such  love 


THE     INNER    LIFE.  173 

will  teach  us,  not  to  neglect  one  and  prefer  another 
without  any  right  or  reason,  but  to  love  all  with 
whom  we  have  intercourse.  It  will  teach  us,  not 
to  disturb  the  peace  of  any  person,  neither  of  a 
child  nor  of  a  gra3i'-headed  sire,  neither  of  our 
nearest  neighbor  nor  of  a  stranger.  It  will  teach 
us,  to  see  in  all  our  earthly  relations  a  higher  de- 
sign, to  act  in  a  noble  spirit,  according  to  higher 
laws  and  for  sacred  purposes.  It  will  teach  us, 
to  love  the  Lord  in  those,  by  whom  we  are  sur- 
rounded, and  to  consider  them  as  destined  for  im- 
mortality. Possessing  such  love,  we  would  devote 
our  principal  care  to  the  interests  of  their  inner  life  ; 
we  would  desire  their  sanctification ;  we  would 
watch  over  their  virtue  and  guard  the  peace  of 
their  souls ;  we  would  remind  each  other  of  that 
day,  when  we  must  give  an  account  of  what  we 
have  done ;  when  husband  and  wife,  father  and 
child,  brother  and  sister,  friend  and  relative — all 
must  stand  before  the  throne  of  the  Judge,  to  be 
acquitted  or  to  be  condemned.  Yes,  there  is  no 
true  love,  that  is  not  anxious  for  the  salvation  of 
its  objects.  And  no  one  is  anxious  for  the  salva- 
tion of  others,  who  does  not  also  desire  their  sancti- 
fication. And  there  is  no  anxiety,  for  their 
sanctification,  that  does  not  come  from  the  Lord 
and  lead  to  the  Lord. 

0  that  we  may  all  love  the  Lord,  I  again 
repeat !  Then  we  would  think  first  of  Him  in  all 
our    doings    and  feelings,  and   of  ourselves — last. 

16* 


174    THE  LOVE  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

Then  it  would  be  easy  for  us  to  share  the  joy  and 
misery  of  others,  to  weep  with  them  and  be  cheer- 
ful with  them  ; — then  it  would  be  easy  to  yield  to 
the  wishes  of  our  fellow-men,  to  devote  ourselves  to 
their  benefit,  to  have  patience  with  the  irritable,  and 
make  every  sacrifice  for  their  good.  Only  when 
they  request  us  to  sacrifice  truth,  when  they  expect 
us  to  deviate  from  the  path  of  duty  in  order  to  please 
them ;  when  we  see  them  in  danger,  ensnared 
by  sin,  running  into  destruction — we  will  not  gratify 
them  ;  our  love  to  them  will  constrain  us  to  warn, 
to  admonish,  to  resist. 

But  this  love  is  a  heavenly  fire;  it  cannot  be 
kindled  by  earthly  passions  nor  by  earthly  charms. 
Pure  love  is  of  God  and  every  one  that  loves,  is 
born  of  God,  and  knows  God.  He  that  loves  not, 
knows  not  God,  for  God  is  love.  These  are  the 
fruits  of  regeneration  :  faith,  liope,  and  love ;  but 
the  greatest  of  these  is  love.  As  the  morning  and 
the  evening  meet  in  the  hour  of  noon,  as  the  past 
and  the  future  are  linked  together  by  the  present 
— so  hope,  which  looks  forward  into  an  unknown 
world,  and  faith,  which  embraces  the  past,  are 
joined  and  united  in-  love.  In  love,  the  grief  of 
repentance  and  solicitude  concerning  a  blessed  im- 
mortality, are  annihilated,  like  many  discords,  that 
are  converted  into  a  beautiful  harmony.  May  God 
grant  this  love  to  every  one  of  us  !     Amen  ! 


THE  INNER  LIFE  OF  THOMAS. 

John  20  :  24-29. 

"  But  Thomas,  one  of  the  twelve,  called  Didyraus,  was  not  there  when 
Jesus  came.  The  other  disciples  therefore  said  unto  him,  We  have  seen 
the  Lord.  But  he  said  unto  them,  Except  I  shall  see  in  his  hands  the 
print  of  the  nails,  and  put  my  finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and 
thrust  my  hand  into  his  side,  I  will  not  believe.  And  after  eight  days 
again  the  disciples  were  within,  and  Thomas  with  them :  then  came 
Jesus,  the  doors  being  shut,  and  stood  in  the  midst  and  said.  Peace  be 
unto  you.  Then  saith  he  to  Thomas,  reach  hither  thy  finger,  and  be- 
hold my  hands ;  and  reach  hither  thy  hand  and  thrust  it  into  my  side ; 
and  be  not  faithless  but  believing.  And  Thomas  answered  and  said  unto 
him,  My  Lord  and  my  God.  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thomas,  because 
thou  hast  seen  me,  thou  hast  believed  :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not 
seen  and  yet  have  believed." 

Lord,  our  Heavenly  Father !  Full  of  humility 
and  reverence,  as  it  becomes  sinners,  we  approach 
Thy  throne  this  morning.  We  are  not  worthy  to 
take  Thy  holy  name  upon  our  lips;  we  cannot 
come  before  Thee  in  our  strength  ;  we  have  no  right 
to  call  upon  Thee;  yet  we  come  in  the  name  of 
our  Saviour,  for  whose  sake  we  pray,  that  Thou 
wilt  accept  us. 

Lord !  may  every  one  acknowledge  that  he  stands 
in  need  of  a  Saviour ;  that  as  sin  has  separated  us 
from  God,  Christ  alone  can  reunite  us  to  Him;  that 


176  THE     INNER     LIFE 

as  sin  has  destroyed  all  heavenly  life  in  us,  Christ 
alone  can  restore  it  again ;  that  as  sin  has  taken 
away  all  noble  pleasures  and  joys,  and  poisoned  the 
heart,  which  is  the  spring  of  all  delight,  Christ 
alone  can  render  us  happy  again  and  bless  us; 
that  as  sin  has  weakened  us,  Christ  alone  can 
strengthen  us. 

May  all  doubts  that  arise  from  sin  and  weakness 
disappear ;  may  the  night  in  which  the  sinner  lives 
be  dispelled,  and  the  day  of  light  and  salvation 
break  in  upon  him  ;  may  he  desire  communion  with 
Him  who  is  the  source  of  life,  the  ruler  of  the  in- 
visible Church,  the  germ  from  which  all  that  is 
good  and  holy  and  lovely  grows  forth. 

Let  the  communion  of  all  believers  be  full  of  life. 
May  they  walk  in  the  spirit  of  Christ;  may  they 
view  their  life  as  He  did ;  may  they  exert  every 
jDOwer  and  use  all  their  time  and  every  opportunity, 
to  labor  for  truth  and  for  their  fellow-men ;  to  be 
zealous  in  their  calling,  to  suffer  and  work  in 
Christ's  service  to  their  last  breath. 

Lord,  help  us,  and  give  us  faith ! 

There  is  but  One  whom  all  must  serve.  Before 
Him  may  all  those  in  power  bend  their  knees ;  may 
all  constitutions  breathe  His  spirit,  and  all  nations 
be  renewed  by  His  word,  that  all  may  gather  around 
Him,  to  do  homage  to  Him. 

May  the  Gospel  spread  throughout  our  land  and 
throughout  the  world ;  may  its  light  triumph  over 
the  darkness  of  sin  and  its  truth  over  superstition 


OF    THOMAS.  177 

and  the  slavery  of  sensual  life.  May  it  put  an  end 
to  superstition  and  infidelity,  to  fanaticism  and  per- 
secution, to  wickedness  and  hypocrisy. 

May  all  of  us  walk  before  Thee  ;  wdiether  we  are 
exposed  to  the  eye  of  the  world,  or  are  in  our 
secret  chamber ;  whether  we  are  engaged  in  our 
daily  employments,  or  in  worshipping  Thee,  may 
we  always  think  of  Thee  and  of  Thine  Omnipre- 
sence, and  live  as  it  becomes  those  whom  Thou 
hast  consecrated  to  Thyself. 

Hear  us,  0  Lord  !  and  help  us.  Especially  help 
those  who  either  have  never  thought  of  their  peril- 
ous state,  or  have  rejected  Christ.  Help  them  that 
they  may  embrace  the  Saviour  whilst  they  are  in 
the  midst  of  life,  whilst  they  enjoy  the  preaching 
of  the  Gospel,  and  possess  all  the  means  of  grace. 
May  their  hearts  be  softened,  and  their  sense  of 
guilt  and  danger  be  awakened ;  may  they  be  led 
speedily  to  the  Son  of  God,  who  alone  can  save 
them  from  eternal  ruin. 

Bless  this  congregation.  Let  every  one  of  its 
members  live  to  Thee,  and  spend  all  his  strength 
in  honoring  and  glorifying  Thy  holy  name.  May 
this  congregation  increase  in  numbers ;  may  it  also 
grow  in  vital  piety,  in  holiness  of  life. 

0  Lord !  bless  Thy  aged  servant,  and  be  with 
him  wherever  he  may  be.  May  his  lips  continue 
long  to  bless  Thy  holy  name,  and  to  announce  Thy 
counsel  to  multitudes  ;   and  w^hen  once  Thou  shalt 


178  THE     INNER     LIFE  - 

call  him  to  Lis  home,  may  he  shine  as  a  star  of  the 
first  magnitude  among  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord. 

There  are  two  classes  of  sceptics  in  matters  of 
religion,  both  of  which  the  Holy  Scriptures  have 
represented  to  us.  The  one  consists  of  those  whose 
doubts  arise  from  a  sinful  and  corrupt  heart ;  they 
perceive  that  the  purity  and  holiness  demanded  by 
Christianity,  is  at  war  with  their  wicked  life ;  that 
their  pride  is  offensive  to  Christian  humility;  their 
avarice  to  Christian  benevolence ;  their  selfishness 
to  Christian  philanthropy ;  their  sensual  lusts  and 
appetites  to  Christian  virtue  and  goodness.  To 
admit  the  truth  of  Christianity,  would  be  nothing 
less  than  to  condemn  themselves.  This  they  are 
unwilling  to  do,  and  hence  they  seek  for  reasons 
and  arguments  by  which  the  truth  and  reality  of 
the  religion  of  Christ  may  become  at  least  doubtful. 
They  doubt,  because  they  fear  lest,  after  all,  there 
may  be  some  truth  in  that  which  they,  if  they 
could,  would  take  pleasure  in  destroying  and  anni- 
hilating. Though  they  do  not  confess  the  true  and 
only  basis  of  their  doubts,  neither  to  themselves 
nor  to  any  one  else ;  though  they  pretend  to  be 
impartial  and  free  from  prejudice,  to  be  desirous  of 
attaining  to  a  conviction  of  their  own, — yet  the  ser- 
pent of  sin,  lurking  in  the  retreats  of  their  hearts, 
causes  constant  uneasiness,  and  watches  every  op- 
portunity to  poison  their  life  both  for  time  and  for 
eternity. 


OF     TTTOMAS.  179 

The  other  class  of  sceptics  differs  widely  from 
this.  They  hope  and  desire  that  there  may  be 
truth  in  the  Christian  religion.  But  they  cannot 
convince  themselves  of  this  in  the  manner,  and  by 
such  evidence  as  seems  to  them  to  be  true  and  suf- 
ficient. They  doubt,  therefore,  because  hope  and 
fear  are  mingled  in  their  bosoms.  They  hope  with 
joy,  yet,  like  a  person  that  waits  with  high  expec- 
tation for  a  long  looked-for  event,  they  fear  a  dis- 
appointment. Their  mental  activity  is  energetic 
and  strong;  they  would  rather  be  convinced  than 
persuaded ;  they  are  unwilling  to  see  with  the  eyes 
of  others ;  but  wish  to  see  with  their  own  eyes ; 
they  can  think  for  themselves,  and  will  not  rely  on 
the  thoughts  of  others ;  whatever  others  may  be- 
lieve, they  insist  on  a  faith  of  their  own — on  a  faith 
that  germinates  and  grows  in  their  own  bosom. 
Hence  it  is  that  they  are  averse  to  all  authority  in 
matters  of  truth ;  what  they  have  not  seen  and 
experienced  themselves,  what  deviates  from  the 
analogy  of  their  former  knowledge,  must  submit  to 
their  doubts. 

To  the  latter  class  of  sceptics,  Thomas  belongs ; 
to  the  former,  the  Pharisees.  Both  classes  of  scep- 
tics exist,  however,  to  this  day.  There  are  those 
who  doubt  the  existence  of  a  world  bej^ond  the 
senses,  because  they  cannot  see  of  what  use  it 
would  be  to  them ;  and  there  are  those,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  torture  themselves  with  doubts, 
from  a  sincere  desire  to  attain  to  a  satisfactory  con- 


180  THE    INNER     LIFE 

viction  of  their  own.  The  latter,  I  conceive,  are 
represented  in  the  rich  and  valuable  history  of 
Thomas ;  and  in  making  it  the  subject  of  my  dis- 
course to-day,  I  intend  to  show 

That  all  doubts  can  be  solved  only  by  the 
Lord,  and  that  He  will  solve  such  only  as  are 
humble,  and  as  arise  from  a  sincere  desire  for 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth. — In  showing  this,  I 
propose  to  consider  the  text  in  an  historical  point  of 
view,  and  deduce  from  each  consideration  such  a 
general  truth  as  shall  naturally  suggest  itself. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  I  shall  prove  from  the 
text,  that  we  can  expect  such  doubts  only  as  are 
humble,  to  be  solved.  In  proving  this,  I  take  it  for 
granted,  that  whatever  we  call  the  occurrences  of 
our  external  life,  what  frequently  seems  to  be  en- 
tirely accidental,  is  intimately  interwoven  with  our 
internal  life — with  our  disposition  and  character, 
with  our  views,  our  manner  of  thinking,  and  the 
strength  or  weakness  of  our  will.  Now,  when  the 
text  says  Thomas  was  not  present  when  Jesus  came 
among  the  disciples  the  first  time,  it  may  at  first 
appear  that  this  was  an  accidental  circumstance, 
that  he  was  prevented  by  something  unexpected 
from  being  with  them,  that  his  absence  was  in 
itself  a  matter  of  little  or  no  importance.  And  yet 
this  very  circumstance  was  of  so  much  importance, 
of  so  much  w^eight,  that  if  it  had  not  occurred,  one 
of  the  strongest  proofs  of  Christ's  resurrection  would 


OF     THOMAS.  181 

never  have  been  given  us.  Thomas  was  absent, 
not  accidentally,  hut  provideniiaUi/ ;  not  by  chance, 
but  by  a  kind  of  necessity.  Thomas,  it  is  true, 
did  not  choose  to  bo  with  the  disciples,  and  in 
doing  so,  he  acted  freely  5  he  did  what  he  desired 
to  do.  But  why  did  he  alone,  of  all  the  disciples, 
desire  to  be  absent  ?  Why  not  John  ?  or  Peter  ? 
or  any  other  disciple  who  was  less  inclined  to  doubt  ? 

This  question  is  of  greater  importance  than  it 
may  seem  at  first  to  possess.  Why  is  it  that  he, 
whom  above  all  others  we  should  think,  Christ 
would  have  desired  to  convince  of  Plis  resurrection, 
was  absent,  when  He  for  the  first  time  again  spake 
the  heavenly  words  :  Peace  he  ivitJi  you,  to  His  dis- 
ciples ? 

I  answer  :  first,  because  Thomas  was  constrained 
by  his  character,  by  his  disposition,  to  separate  him- 
self from  his  fellow-disciples  ;  and  secondly,  because 
the  Lord  had  ordered  it  thus. 

Let  us  cast  a  glance  at  the  character  of  Thomas. 
It  has  been  frequently  said  with  perfect  truth,  that 
each  of  Christ's  apostles  had  a  very  marked  and  dis- 
tinct character,  and  that  each  may  be  considered  as 
the  representative  of  a  large  class  of  men,  all  of 
whom,  will  more  or  less  easily  recognize  themselves 
in  one  or  the  other  of  the  apostles.  Thomas  has  been 
looked  upon  by  distinguished  divines  as  the  represen- 
tative of  the  modern  and  ancient  Rationalists,  and  as 
it  would  seem  with  great  propriety.  His  mind,  full  of 
energy,  is  active  and  thirsts  for  truth,  but  he  desires 

J6 


182  THE    INNER     LIFE 

to  seek  and  find  it  by  his  own  power.  He  cannot 
admit  anything,  unless  it  agrees  with  the  laws  of 
his  reason,  as  they  are  known  to  him ;  he  will 
think  for  himself;  he  will  apply  his  thoughts  and 
experience  to  all  new  knowledge ;  he  will  not  re- 
ceive a  truth  on  the  mere  authority  of  others ;  he 
will  sow  on  his  own  ground,  and  with  his  own  hand 
what  he  desires  to  reap.  He  is,  in  short,  more 
productive  of  thoughts  of  his  own  than  susceptible 
of  receiving  those  of  others.  A  mind  so  much 
accustomed  to  its  own  thoughts,  is  naturally  dif- 
ficult of  access  to  those  of  others.  The  two  prin- 
cipal activities  of  the  human  mind  are  spontaneity 
and  recej)tiveness ;  hence  as  the  intellect  in  Thomas 
prevails  over  the  heart,  his  spontaneous  activity 
predominates.  He  was  truly  attached  to  Christ ; 
but  all  that  had  lately  taken  place  in  regard  to  the 
Saviour,  was  so  utterly  opposed  to  his  previously 
formed  and  immature  expectations,  that  his  whole 
former  course  of  ideas  is  suddenly  arrested.  To 
him  it  is  utterly  incomprehensible,  that  life  should 
proceed  from  an  ignominious  death,  and  salvation 
from  the  sufferings  of  him  who  bestows  it ;  that 
honor  should  flow  from  the  cross  of  reproach,  and 
a  healing  balm  for  all  nations  from  the  wounds  of 
the  Saviour.  The  more  strongly,  the  more  con- 
fidently, he  had  once  built  his  hopes  upon  Christ, 
the  deeper  and  more  painful  was  now  his  despon- 
dency, when  He,  from  whom  he  had  expected  aid 


OF    TUOMAS.  183 

for  all  men,  Himself  exclaimed,  My  God,  my  God, 
why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me  ? 

But  the  mind  of  Thomas  is  strong ;  his  hopes 
may  be  dimmed ;  his  expectations  wither ;  grief 
may  oppress  his  soul ;  night  may  surround  his  eye, 
and  he  may  mourn ;  but  he  will  not  despair.  The 
past  is  to  him  like  a  dream  :  the  promises  of  the 
Lord,  the  desires  of  the  pious,  the  honor  and  the 
once  smiling  glorj^  of  the  Saviour,  the  ardent  emo- 
tions of  his  own  heart ; — all  are  crushed  by  the 
cross  :  hence  he  resolves  to  flee  forever  from  the 
possibility  of  recollection,  to  remain  by  himself, 
and  to  shun  every  occasion  of  again  being  deceived. 
It  is  his  determination  henceforth  to  preserve  his 
judgment  unbiassed,  to  be  prudent  and  cautious, 
and  no  longer  to  associate  with  those  disciples,  who 
now  appeared  to  him  to  be  too  credulous  and  san- 
guine. Thus  he  excluded  himself  from  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Lord  when  for  the  first  time  after  His  re- 
surrection He  entered  the  room  where  the  apostles 
were  assembled.  We  see  that  what  at  first  seems 
accidental,  followed  of  necessity  from  the  character 
of  Thomas;  for  he  is  determined  not  to  be  deceived, 
and  therefore  he  banishes  himself  from  the  only 
source  of  consolation  and  comfort. 

Yet  while  Thomas  resolves  and  acts  freely,  he 
acts  at  the  same  time  as  the  Lord  ordered  it.  No- 
thing occurs  without  the  will  of  God.  Thomas 
acts  freely,  yet  his  action  is  included  in  the  Divine 
plan.     But  why  did  the  Lord  order  it  thus  ?    That 


184  THE     INNER     LIFE 

the  doubts,  which  agitated  Thomas,  might  be  devel- 
oped to  the  highest  degree,  in  order  that  all 
those,  who  after  him  should  be  excited  by  simi- 
lar reflections  and  tortured  by  similar  troubles, 
might  have  sufficient  proof  of  the  resurrection  to 
silence  their  doubts  and  soothe  their  cares.  Thomas, 
not  only  in  his  own  name,  but  also  in  the  name  of 
all  whom  he  represents,  had  to  speak  boldly  and 
distinctly  the  ever  memorable  words  :  Except  I 
shall  see  in  His  hands  the  print  of  the  nails,  and 
put  my  finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and 
thrust  my  hand  into  His  side,  I  will  not  believe. 
Thomas,  as  a  great  divine  says,  had  to  doubt,  and 
it  w^as  his  lot  to  express  his  doubt  in  the  boldest 
and  most  forcible  manner,  so  that  no  one  might 
afterwards  be  tempted  to  doubt  and  disbelieve. 

The  general  truth  we  may  derive  from  this 
consideration  is,  that  the  life  of  man,  with  all 
its  emotions  and  feelings,  with  all  its  thoughts 
and  actions,  with  all  its  frailties  and  sinful- 
ness, is  interwoven  with  the  general  plan  of  God; 
that  even  then  must  we  serve  Him,  when  w^e 
deny  His  power  and  might.  The  Lord  does  not 
use  man,  as  he  uses  the  elements,*  fire,  and  water, 
and  wind.  He  does  not  use  him  as  a  mere  passive 
instrument;  He  deals  with  him  as  possessing  reason 
and  will.  Yet  though  man  reflects  and  considers, 
though  he  resolves  and  acts  freely,  his  actions, 
without  any  intention  on  his  part,  form,  neverthe- 
less, a  link  in  the  great  chain  that  connects  time 
with   eternity ;   that  connects  nation  with  nation, 


OF    THOMAS.  185 

and  man  with  God.  This  Thomas  did  not  dream 
of.  He  possesses  a  high  degree  of  self-confidence  ; 
what  he  does  not  see,  he  cannot  believe.  The  idea, 
perhaps  never  struck  him,  that  every  pulsation  of 
the  heart  presupposes  a  power,  which  is  not  in  the 
heart,  and  that  the  power  which  gives  life,  can  also 
effect  a  resurrection  from  the  grave  :  he  even  wit- 
nessed the  restoration  of  Lazarus  to  life,  and  yet, 
because  he  cannot  comprehend  why  the  Saviour 
must  die,  he  doubts  the  power  of  Christ  to  rise 
from  the  grave  Himself  This  unlimited  confidence 
in  his  own  thoughts  and  ideas,  was  to  be  powerfully 
checked ;  he  was  to  be  humbled,  and  then  received 
into  communion  with  Christ. 

And  this  leads  us  to  the  second  consideration. — Our 
Saviour,  as  it  appears  from  the  text,  did  not  show 
himself  very  soon  to  Thomas,  but  made  him  wait  full 
eight  days.  This  also  is  worthy  of  notice.  Why  did 
the  Saviour  do  so  ?  To  purify,  to  soften,  to  humble 
Thomas.  He  was  the  disciple  who  demanded  more 
proofs  than  the  others,  but  to  him  they  were  given 
last  of  all.  "  Why,  perhaps  he  thought,  does  not 
Christ,  if  He  lives  again  and  has  risen  from  the 
dead,  show  Himself  to  me  ?  I  have  lived  with 
Him  for  three  years,  I  have  followed  Him  and  re- 
signed many  comforts, — have  I  no  right  to  see 
Him  ?"  He  is  anxious  to  believe,  but  has  not  power 
enough  to  trust  a  Saviour;  he  is  desirous  to  lean  on 
some  one  higher  and  greater  than  himself,  as  the 


186  THE    INNER    LIFE 

tender  plant  winds  itself  around  a  strong  trunk ; 
but  his  mind,  his  manner  of  thinking,  prevents  him 
from  embracing  the  cross.  Perhaps  at  one  time 
he  considers  all  a  dream ;  perhaps  at  another,  the 
thought  flashes  through  his  heart  that  Christ  after 
all  may  have  risen.  Perhaps  he  already  believes 
more  than  he  confessed  to  himself;  perhaps  he  did 
not  believe  from  joy :  the  news  was  so  overpower- 
ing to  him,  so  full  of  delight  and  happiness,  that  it 
seemed  too  good  and  great  to  be  believed ;  another 
disappointment  would  be  too  painful.  We  cannot 
say  what  thoughts,  or  what  hopes  and  what  fears, 
may  have  confusedly  moved  and  excited  the  breast 
of  Thomas ;  yet  it  is  certain  that  these  precious 
days,  these  long  eight  days  of  suspense,  were  de- 
signed to  purify  and  humble  the  impatient,  self- 
confiding  disciple;  that  they  were  for  him  what 
fire  is  for  gold. 

■  Christ,  moreover,  did  not  show  Himself  to  Thomas 
alone,  but  in  the  presence  of  all.  In  their  presence, 
he  had  spoken  the  words  of  unbelief;  before  them, 
also,  he  was  to  be  humbled,  and  atone  for  his  self- 
confidence,  by  exclaiming  :  My  Lord  and  my  God. 
The  general  truth  which  this  consideration 
teaches  us  is,  that  whatever  occurs  in  our  external 
life,  is  intended  by  the  Lord  for  the  welfare  of  our 
souls ;  and  that  what  seems  to  be  accidental,  may 
be  replete  with  heavenly  hints,  with  Divine  admo- 
nitions, if  we  will  only  see  and  hear  with  the  eye 
and  the  ear  of  the  soul.  Nothing  that  comes  from 
the  Lord — and  what  is  there  that  does  not  come 


OF    THOMAS.  187 

from  Him  ? — is  meant  only  for  our  sensual  welfare. 
Perhaps  the  Lord  blesses  us  with  riches,  but  He 
aims  at  the  cultivation  of  our  benevolence;  per- 
haps He  afflicts  us  with  bodily  disease,  but  He  aims 
at  the  cultivation  of  meekness,  patience,  and  sub- 
mission. Let  nothing,  therefore,  be  a  matter  of 
indifference  in  our  e3'es;  we  may,  and  ought  to 
read  the  will  of  God,  not  only  in  the  Gospel,  but 
in  the  history  of  our  own  life,  in  the  history  of 
nations,  in  the  actions  of  men,  and  in  the  plays  of 
children. 

We  pass  over  to  a  tltird  consideration. — After 
eight  days,  the  disciples  are  again  assembled,  and 
Thomas  is  among  them.  They  are  no  doubt  speak- 
ing about  the  Saviour,  when  suddenly  and  unex- 
pectedly the  words:  Peace  he  with  you!  fall  upon 
their  ears  like  sounds  from  heavenly  regions.  All 
are  astonished,  but  none  more  so  than  Thomas.  He 
is  silent;  he  does  not  dare  to  utter  a  word;  his 
eyes  are  fixed  upon  Christ  the  Saviour,  and  the 
Saviour's  eyes  are  fixed  upon  him.  At  length  the 
Saviour  interrupts  this  painful  silence,  by  the 
words  :  Keach  hither  thy  finger,  and  behold  my 
hands;  and  reach  hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it 
into  my  side,  and  be  not  faithless,  but  believing. 
Peter,  who  always  boasted  that  he  loved  Christ 
more  than  all  the  other  disciples,  became  sorrow- 
ful, when  Christ  asked  him  three  times :  Lovest 
thou  me  ?  And  Thomas  cannot  have  remained 
without  deep  emotions,  without  painful  feelings. 


188  THE    INNER    LIFE 

when  the  Lord,  in  His  kind  yet  pointed  manner, 
reproved  his  unbelief.  Christ,  whose  resurrection 
he  had  doubted  so  strongly,  now  stands  before  him, 
kindly  offering  all  the  proofs  he  had  demanded. 
But  Christ,  it  would  seem,  does  not  only  stand  be- 
fore him  now;  He  was  with  him  also  when  he 
thought  Him  in  the  grave.  He  saw  his  emotions. 
He  knew  his  thoughts,  perceived  his  feelings,  and 
witnessed  his  unbelief  and  his  doubts,  while  he 
thought  Him  among  those  who  are  no  more.  If  it 
be  painful  to  see  our  mistrust  of  a  common  man, 
who  is  weak  like  ourselves,  discovered  by  him,  the 
mortification  of  Thomas  must  have  been  humili- 
ating in  a  high  degree,  when  his  unbelief  was  ex- 
posed by  the  Lord  Himself 

The  general  truth  which  I  desire  to  derive  from 
this  consideration,  bases  itself  upon  the  fact  that 
Christ,  though  not  informed  by  any  one  of  the 
Apostles,  was  acquainted  with  the  very  words  of 
Thomas,  spoken  in  reference  to  His  resurrection, 
and  that  this  rendered  the  conversation  of  the 
Saviour  more  painful  and  humiliating  to  Thomas. 
Thus,  though  Christ  is  no  longer  among  us  according 
to  the  flesh.  He  is  still  with  us  by  His  Spirit.  This 
truth  all  of  us  feel,  yet  not  at  all  times.  We  feel 
it  when  we  approach  the  table  of  the  Lord ;  when 
we  present  our  children  to  be  baptized ;  or  when 
we  stand  at  the  side  of  our  dying  friends.  We  feel 
it  in  the  great  epochs  of  our  life,  but  very  rarely 
when  attending  to  the  common  business  of  the 


OF    THOMAS.  189 

week — when  the  affairs  of  the  world  engross  our 
attention.  But  the  Lord  is  with  us  at  all  times ; 
He  is  with  us,  whether  we  rebel  against  Him,  as 
Thomas  did,  or  adore  and  praise  Him.  If  we  rebel, 
He  will  make  us  blush,  as  He  did  Thomas,  but  in- 
stead of  giving  us  an  opportunity  to  see  Him,  He 
may  send  us  away  from  His  presence  and  the 
glory  of  His  power  forever. 

But  let  us  now  see  icliat  effect  the  kind  and  yet 
humbling  manner,  in  which  the  Saviour  wrought 
upon  Thomas,  had  on  him.  The  satisfaction,  de- 
manded so  boldly,  is  offered  to  his  doubting  mind ; 
he  is  permitted  to  thrust  his  hand  into  the  Saviour's 
side,  and  lay  his  finger  in  the  print  of  the  nails ; 
but  instead  of  doing  so,  he  exclaims :  My  Lord  and 
my  God! 

The  power  of  Christ  appears  more  mysterious 
and  incomprehensible,  the  longer  we  look  upon  it. 
It  cannot  be  measured  by  our  knowledge ;  it  con- 
stantly unfolds  deeper  riches,  greater  glory,  higher 
splendor.  It  is  mild,  yet  irresistible ;  it  utters  itself 
without  pomp  and  without  effort,  and  yet  it  effects 
its  desired  ends. 

Thomas  had  demanded  signs  :  on  thera  his  faith 
was  to  depend ;  without  them  he  would  not  believe 
at  all ;  and  with  them  he  was  scarcely  willing  to 
acknowledge  truth  to  be  truth.  The  demanded 
signs  are  given  but  he  refuses  to  accept  them. 
Whence  this  sudden  change  ?  The  power  of  Christ 
shed  a  new  and  heavenly  light  into  his  bosom,  and 


190  THE    INNER    LIFE 

the  artificial  edifice  of  his  doubting  understanding 
was  broken  down  forever.  His  doubts  were  strong 
but  divine  grace  was  stronger;  he  had  resisted 
long,  but  now  his  conviction  was  so  much  the 
deeper.  It  was  no  longer  the  man  with  the  wounds 
and  bruises,  that  stood  before  Thomas ;  it  was  the 
Saviour — it  was  God  in  man,  whose  power  had 
conquered  death. 

There  is  indeed  a  striking  resemblance  between 
the  manner  in  which  our  Saviour  treated  Peter  and 
Thomas,  and  we  cannot  help  being  reminded  of 
the  history  of  the  one  by  that  of  the  other.  When 
the  Saviour  asked  Peter  the  third  time:  Lovest 
thou  me  ?  he  perceived  what  he  had  never  seen  so 
clearly  before.  A  great  change  was  wrought  in 
him  as  in  Thomas.  The  change  in  the  case  of 
both,  was  as  great  as  that  of  Paul  at  Damascus, 
only  not  as  sudden.  The  religious  life  which  had 
already  begun  to  develop  itself,  was  accelerated  and 
instantly  brought  to  its  height  by  the  mysterious 
power  of  Christ. 

From  this  consideration  we  may  learn  two 
things.  First,  that  those  who  would  believe  with 
miracles,  will  also  believe  without  them,  for 
miracles  are  as  much  a  subject  of  faith  as  divine 
revelation  ;  and  as  divine  revelation  is  a  miracle,  so 
every  miracle  is  a  divine  revelation.  Those,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  are  not  willing  to  believe  without 
seeing  signs  and  miracles,  would  be  the  first  to  ex- 
claim with  the   Pharisees :    he  casts   out  Devils 


OF    THOMAS.  191 

through  the  Prince  of  the  Devils.  But,  secondly, 
we  may  learn,  that  faith  is  wrought  in  us,  not  by  our 
own  power,  not  by  our  will,  nor  in  our  own  way  and 
manner,  but  by  the  irresistible  grace  of  God.  Not 
that  God  works  wiiliout  man,  but  with  him.  When 
grace  approaches  man  and  awakens  a  desire  in  him 
for  itself;  when  man  seeks  what  God  offers;  when 
the  child  longs  for  the  father  and  the  father  meets 
the  desire  of  the  child ;  then  faith  is  wrought  like 
sight,  when  the  eyes  open  to  the  light  and  the  light 
falls  upon  them.  This  is  the  mystery,  before  which 
we  must  always  remain  speechless,  that  none  can 
find  the  Lord,  unless  He  comes  down  from  Heaven 
to  seek  sinners  ;  that  no  man  can  know  the  Father 
save  the  Son  and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  will 
reveal  him,  and  moreover,  that  no  man  can  come 
to  the  Son,  unless  the  Father  draw  him. 

But  there  is  anotlier  consideration,  which  the 
richness  of  this  history  presses  upon  us.  Thomas 
demands  a  sign  and  receives  it ;  the  Pharisees  ask 
for  one,  and  Christ  says  :  An  evil  and  adulterous 
generation  seeketh  for  a  sign,  and  there  shall  no 
sign  be  given  to  it,  but  the  sign  of  the  prophet 
Jonas.  What  Christ  grants  to  Thomas,  he  denies 
in  a  severe  manner  to  the  Pharisees  :  is  this  not 
partiality  ? 

The  doubts  of  the  Pharisees  arose  from  their 
unwillingness  to  acknowledge  Christ  as  their  Lord ; 
from  a  decided  reluctance  to  give  up  their  o^n 
honor  and  dominion,  and  yield  both  to  Him  to  whom 


192  THE     INNER     LIFE 

they  were  due.  Though  the  signs  demanded  by 
the  Pharisees  should  have  been  given,  they  would 
not  have  convinced,  but  only  have  embittered  them 
the  more.  Their  will  is  the  magic  spell,  that 
excludes  them  from  Christ,  and  hence  Christ  does 
not  importune  them.  Thomas,  on  the  other  hand, 
doubted  what  he  desired  to  believe ;  the  Lord 
knew  Him ;  He  knew  his  heart.  He  had  followed 
Him  for  three  years  under  much  self-denial  and 
many  inconveniences,  and  though  he  asked  for 
reasons,  yet  he  was  anxious  to  see  the  long-ex- 
pected Saviour.  Hence  the  Lord  granted  him 
what  he  denied  to  the  Pharisees. 

Thus  my  main  proposition  is  fully  established. 
The  Lord  alone  can  solve  our  doubts.  We  are  able 
to  raise  them,  but  we  cannot  remove  them.  Yet 
the  Lord  will  solve  such  only  as  are  humble  and 
pure  in  their  character.  As  long  therefore  as  our 
doubts  proceed  from  sin  and  a  corrupt  heart,  as  long 
as  they  are  the  oifspring  of  wicked  desires,  as  long 
as  we  have  them,  because  we  are  determined  to 
have  them,  so  long  we  shall  remain  excluded 
from  the  Church  of  Christ  hy  our  oivn  ivilL  The 
miracle  indeed,  which  is  greater  than  that  of  the 
prophet  Jonas  who  being  buried  in  the  belly  of  the 
whale,  came  forth  to  life  again,  the  miracle  of  the 
resurrection  of  Christ,  who  came  forth  from  the 
grave,  has  been  wrought  before  our  eyes,  as  before 
those  of  the  Pharisees — has  been  wrought  before  the 
whole  world  j  we  hear  its  history.  We  see  its  effects; 


OF    TITOMAS.  193 

but  many  will  not  have  anything  to  do  with  Christ, 
and  hence  they  doubt.  They  have  no  desire  for 
Him,  they  feel  no  need  of  Him,  and  though  it 
would  be  the  joy  and  delight  of  the  Saviour  to 
dispel  all  fears  and  all  doubts.  He  is  unwilling  to 
force  men  to  believe.  Their  will  is  their  kingdom. 
The  Lord  suffers  them  to  reign  in  it.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  doubt  like  Thomas,  the  Saviour  will 
show  us  His  wounds,  and  our  souls  will  read  salva- 
tion in  His  pierced  hands  and  side,  and  will  exclaim 
with  joy  and  gratitude  :  My  Lord  and  my  God. 

But  let  us  hasten  to  the  final  words  of  the  text : 
Blessed  are  iliey,  that  have  not  seen  and  yet  have 
helieved. 

I  shall  leave  it  undecided,  whether  or  not  these 
words  contain,  as  many  think,  a  rebuke  for  Thomas. 
They  certainly  have  a  stronger  bearing  upon  us, 
than  upon  the  disciple  who  could  both  see  and 
believe.  As  Thomas  had  to  doubt,  lest  we  should 
doubt,  so  were  these  memorable  words  spoken 
principally  on  our  account,  and  at  no  time  were 
they  of  greater  importance  than  they  are  now. 
It  is  peculiar  to  our  age  to  base  all  faith  and  belief 
on  sensual  evidence ;  and  it  is  a  happy  inconsistency 
if  the  existence  of  a  supernatural  world — a  world 
inaccessible  to  our  senses — a  world  of  invisible 
powers — a  kingdom  of  spiritual  and  immaterial 
beings,  is  yet  at  all  admitted.  Many  deny  its  ex- 
istence, and  consider  a  belief  in  it  not  pnly  super- 


194  THE    INNER    LIFE 

stitious  but  even  prejudicial  to  the  investigation  of 
truth,  and  injurious  to  pure  morality.  They  say: 
unless  we  can  see  with  our  own  eyes,  unless  our 
senses  can  touch,  or  smell,  or  taste,  or  hear  a  thing, 
we  cannot  reasonably  be  expected  to  believe  in  it. 
And  yet  who  has  ever  seen  a  iliought,  or  felt  a 
power  with  his  hands,  or  heard  an  inclination? 
Thoughts,  and'powers,  and  inclinations,  are  invisible ; 
and  though  we  cannot  see  them,  we  must  believe  in 
them.  We  are  surrounded  by  an  invisible  world ; 
we  live  and  breathe  in  it ;  every  power  that  works 
in  the  plant  and  forms  its  beauties;  the  instinct 
that  in  the  bee  builds  the  cell,  and  in  the  bird  the 
artificial  nest;  the  mighty  Hand  that  moves  in- 
numerable worlds,  and  preserves  order  and  regu- 
larity :  all  are  invisible  and  supernatural.  And 
whatever  distinguishes  man  from  the  animal — reason 
and  conscience,  his  most  noble  thoughts  and  most  sub- 
lime emotions,  his  will  and  other  high  prerogatives, 
every  hope  and  every  fear— belongs  to  the  world 
which  cannot  be  perceived  by  the  senses.  Happy 
those  who  believe,  though  they  cannot  see.  With- 
out believing,  man  sinks  to  a  level  with  the  brute. 
Yet  the  word  see  may  be  used  metaphorically. 
What  we  cannot  see  with  the  eye,  we  may  see  with 
the  soul.  The  soul  is  indeed  the  true  organ  of 
sight,  as  the  original  language  in  which  both  words 
are  found  indicates,  by  deriving  soul  and  seeing  from 
the  same  root.  The  eye  may  perceive  the  effects 
of  the  magnet,  but  it  is  the  soul,  the  thinking 
power  in  us,  which  ascribes  these  eiFects  to  an  in- 


OF    THOMAS.  195 

visible  agency.  The  eye  may  perceive  the  effects 
of  a  resolute  will,  but  it  is  the  soul  that  sees  the 
will  itself.  In  the  same  way,  we  may  see  Christ 
around  us.  He  once  lived  on  earth,  and  the  effects 
of  His  life  are  visible  even  now.  He  has  a  history, 
w^hich  has  constantly  produced  new  actions  for  more 
than  eighteen  hundred  years.  It  is  His  power  that 
tore  down  the  walls  which  superstition  and  hate  had 
erected  between  nations.  His  spirit  pervades  our 
constitutions,  has  softened  our  laws,  has  influenced 
the  manners  of  society,  has  entered  our  institutions 
of  learning,  and  lives  more  or  less  in  the  views,  and 
convictions,  and  morals  of  the  age.  If  we  desire 
to  see  Christ  with  the  eye  of  the  soul,  we  may  find 
Him  in  every  voice  of  truth,  in  every  noble  virtue, 
in  every  admonition  of  conscience,  and  in  all  that  sur- 
rounds us ;  for  whatever  is  alive  has  a  tongue  and 
a  language  to  proclaim,  that  we  are  upheld  by  an 
invisible  power;  that  as  every  pulsation  of  the  heart 
presupposes  a  power  which  is  not  in  the  heart,  so  the 
spiritual  world  within  us  bears  witness  of  the  Lord. 
Wherever  we  stand,  we  stand  on  holy  ground,  and 
it  becomes  us  to  put  off  our  shoes  from  off  our  feet, 
for  the  Lord  is  present. 

Like  all  other  faith,  spiritual  faith  is  qualified  by 
the  senses.  We  must  hear  the  Divine  word  and 
see  its  Divine  effects.  Christ,  the  Christian  religion, 
Christendom,  are  not  mere  thoughts ;  they  may  be 
seen  in  their  effects ;  they  are  realized ;  they  have 
entered  the  world  under  a  distinct  form.    Would  it 


196  THE     INNER    LIFE 

not  be  illogical,  to  admit  an  invisible  power  in  the 
magnet,  when  we  gee  its  effects  upon  iron  separated 
from  it  by  a  thick  marble  plate,  and  yet  deny  the  pre- 
sence of  an  invisible  power,  when  we  cannot  avoid 
acknowledging  the  visible  effects  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion upon  the  world  ?  Yet  it  is  not  this  external, 
historical  form ;  it  is  the  spirit  that  has  wrought  it, 
on  which  the  mind  must  rest;  but  spirit  exists 
only  for  spirit,  as  light  does  for  light.  Whatever 
is  spiritual,  must  be  understood  spiritually  and 
esteemed  spiritually.  The  sense  for  the  light  is  the 
eye,  the  sense  for  sound  is  the  ear,  but  the  sense  for 
the  Invisible  is  the  soul.  To  live  and  to  die  like 
the  animal,  our  senses  are  sufficient;  but  to  live 
and  to  die  like  men,  for  eternity,  we  must  have  a 
soul.  The  element  of  the  soul  is  faith ;  without  it, 
the  soul  cannot  attain  to  peace.  But  faith  we 
have,  when  we  see  not,  and  yet  perceive ;  hear  not, 
and  yet  believe ;  have  not,  and  yet  possess.  It  is 
a  knowledge  of  the  Invisible  connected  with  a  firm 
conviction  of  its  existence.  Its  contents  are,  that 
the  Saviour  of  the  world  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  the 
Son  of  God  is  the  Saviour  of  the  world ;  that  these 
two  things  penetrate  each  other  and  are  one;  that 
Christ,  as  the  Son  of  God,  had  to  be,  and  He  alone 
can  be  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  that  the  Sa- 
viour of  the  world  only  can  be  the  Son  of  God. 

Again  :  the  effects  of  this  faith  upon  us  are 
expressed  in  the  words  of  Thomas  :  My  Lord  and 
my  God.  He  who  lived  on  earth,  and  shed  His 
blood  and  died  for  us,  is  to  be  our  Lord.     He  is  to 


OF    THOMAS.  197 

reign  over  us,  and  we  are  to  become  citizens  of 
that  kingdom  in  which  His  will  is  the  only  law. 
Thus  faith  establishes  a  connection  between  Christ 
and  ourselves,  and  though  the  eye  cannot  see  Him, 
and  the  hand  cannot  touch  Him,  yet  we  love  Him, 
we  believe  in  Him,  we  have  constant  communion 
with  Him.  Our  communion  is  spiritual ;  we  re- 
flect upon  what  He  has  said ;  we  review  what  He 
has  done ;  we  receive  what  He  has  taught ;  we 
reap  what  He  has  sown ;  we  strive  and  labor  with 
His  assistance  ;  we  watch  by  His  divine  grace  over 
every  emotion,  and  notice  the  true  import  of  every 
occurrence  in  the  history  of  the  world  ;  we  depend 
on  His  counsel ;  we  are  strengthened  by  His  word ; 
we  rejoice  in  Him  and  live  before  Him. 

Such  faith  is  a  messenger  from  Heaven,  to  bring 
happiness,  and  blessing,  and  joy  upon  earth.  Those 
who  have  doubted  like  Thomas,  will  embrace  with 
delight  the  Source  of  life  and  of  light,  of  consola- 
tion and  joy,  of  strength  and  of  salvation.  It  is 
this  faith,  which  alone  can  dispel  the  night  of  sin, 
and  lead  us  from  strength  to  strength  until  we  shall 
see  the  glory  of  our  Saviour. 

Oh,  that  there  might  be  no  one  present,  who,  by 
his  own  will,  shall  continue  to  deprive  himself  of 
that  peace  and  favor,  of  that  joy  and  happiness 
and  blessing,  which  those  shall  have  forever  who 
believe  and  are  faithful !  Lord,  help  us,  that  we 
may  all  see  Thee,  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ,  whom  Thou  hast  sent.     Amen. 

11* 


THE  INNER  LIFE  OF  MARY  MAGDALENE. 

John  20:  11-18. 

"But  Mary  stood  without  at  the  sepulchre  weeping :  and  as  she  wept, 
she  stooped  down,  and  looked  into  the  sepulchre,  and  seeth  two  angels 
in  white,  sitting,  the  one  at  the  head,  and  the  other  at  the  feet,  where 
the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain.  And  they  say  unto  her,  Woman,  why 
weepest  thou  ?  She  saith  unto  them.  Because  they  have  taken  away  my 
Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  him.  And  when  she  had 
thus  said,  she  turned  herself  back,  and  saw  Jesus  standing,  and  knew 
not  that  it  was  Jesus.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Woman,  why  weepest 
thou?  whom  seekest  thou?  She,  supposing  him  to  be  the  gardener, 
saith  unto  him,  Sir,  if  thou  have  borne  him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou 
hast  laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him  away.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Mary. 
She  turned  herself  and  saith  unto  him,  Rabboni,  which  is  to  say.  Mas- 
ter. Jesus  saith  unto  her.  Touch  me  not,  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to 
my  Father :  but  go  to  my  brethren,  and  say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto 
my  Father,  and  your  Father ;  and  to  my  God,  and  your  God.  Mary 
Magdalene  came  and  told  the  discijjles,  that  she  had  seen  the  Lord,  and 
that  he  had  spoken  these  things  unto  her." 

Lord,  our  Heavenly  Father !  AVe  approach  Thy 
Throne  this  morning  to  thank  Thee  for  the  many 
mercies  Thou  hast  bestowed  upon  us.  Thou  iiast 
been  with  us  from  our  earliest  youth  up  to  the  pre- 
sent hour ;  Thou  hast  watched  over  us  and  pro- 
tected us  from  all  dangers ;  Thou  hast  given  us 
strength  to  endure  the  heavy  trials  which  life 
entails  on  every  one,  and  hast  preserved  us  until 
this  day.     But  especially  would  we  thank  Thee, 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  199 

Lord!  that  Thou  didst  send  Thy  only-begotten 
Son  into  the  world :  our  thoughts  cannot  compre- 
hend the  sacrifice  He  made  for  us,  nor  the  suffer- 
ings He  endured  for  us,  nor  the  debt  He  paid  for 
us,  nor  the  blessings  he  procured  for  us. 

0  Lord !  we  are  sinners,  and  the  reward  of  sin  is 
death.  As  death  follows  sin,  so  the  grave  follows 
death ;  we  cannot  look  upon  our  graves  without 
remembering  sin,  and  as  life  feels  averse  to  death, 
so  the  sight  of  the  grave  arouses  bitter  feelings  and 
thoughts  in  the  heart  of  the  sinner.  But  we 
thank  Thee,  Lord !  that  He,  in  whom  Thou  wast 
well  pleased,  the  Prince  of  life,  endured  death  and 
passed  into  the  grave  on  our  account.  When  we 
reflect  on  the  grave  of  the  Saviour,  we  may  feel 
reconciled ;  we  may  rejoice  and  hope  as  we  con- 
tinue the  journey  at  whose  end  the  grave  awaits 
every  one  of  us.  Now  the  grave  is  no  longer  the 
house  of  decay  and  destruction,  but  the  silent 
chamber  in  which  a  new  life  develops  itself;  for 
the  Saviour  has  subdued  the  power  of  death,  and 
by  His  resurrection  conquered  the  grave  forever. 

May  we  often  meditate  on  the  grave  of  the 
Saviour ;  may  we  hear  the  Saviour's  voice  calling 
each  one  of  us  by  name,  as  he  called  Mary ;  may 
we  receive  consolation  and  comfort  as  she  did,  and 
may  our  sadness,  like  hers,  be  turned  into  joy. 

Lord !  who  art  our  Friend  and  Saviour,  pardon 
our  weakness  when  we  sometimes  tremble  at  the 
sight  of  the  grave ;  when,  overcome  by  the  evils 


200  THE     INNER     LIFE 

of  life  and  pressed  down  bj  a  sense  of  our  frailties, 
we  are  downcast  and  without  hope.  Be  near  us, 
as  Thou  wast  near  to  Mary,  when  she  wept  at  Thy 
sepulchre;  may  Thy  mercy  and  grace  speak  a  word 
of  consolation  to  us,  and  awaken  in  us  a  presenti- 
ment of  the  heavenly  joy  and  happiness  prepared 
for  those  that  die  in  the  Lord.  And  especially  when 
the  evening  of  life  approaches,  when  our  days  are 
spent  and  our  strength  decreases,  then,  Lord,  we 
pray,  be  near  us  and  bless  us  with  resignation  and 
comfort  and  hope.  Assisted  by  Thee,  raised  up  by 
Thy  mighty  hand,  and  invited  by  the  blessings  and 
happiness  of  Heaven,  our  souls  will  hasten  to  rise 
on  the  wings  of  faith  and  hope  to  see  Thy  glory. 

Lord !  we  pray  that  Thou  wilt  look  in  mercy 
upon  the  youth  collected  here.  Though  in  the 
bloom  of  life  may  they  remember  that  death  calls 
not  only  the  superannuated,  but  seizes  also  the 
child,  whose  first  smiles  have  scarcely  saluted  the 
light  of  the  sun.  Teach  them  so  to  number  their 
days  that  they  may  apply  their  hearts  unto  wisdom, 
and  be  prepared  to  meet  their  Judge  whenever  He 
shall  call  them  hence. 

The  death  of  our  Saviour  had  produced  different 
effects  upon  His  friends  and  enemies.  The  enemies 
of  Christ  constantly  apprehended,  that  something 
would  follow  His  death  which  would  reveal  His 
Divine  power,  and  expose  themselves  and  their 
unjust  cause.     The  convulsions  which  took  place 


OF    MARY    MAGDALENE.  201 

during  the  dying  hour  of  the  Saviour,  and  the 
favorable  impression  made  upon  many  in  their  own 
midst,  by  the  sublime  manner  in  which  lie  bore 
His  sufferings,  were  so  many  accusers,  rising  up  to 
charge  them  with  the  murder  of  the  Son  of  God. 
But  especially  the  words,  that  He  should  rise  again 
on  the  third  day,  seem  to  have  sounded  in  their 
ears  constantly,  and  to  have  alarmed  their  sinful 
consciences.  Hence  we  see  them  exercise  the 
greatest  caution,  lest  some  imposition  should  be 
practised  upon  them.  They  appoint  a  watch  to 
observe  what  might  be  going  on  around  the  grave; 
they  impress  their  seal,  the  seal  of  their  authority 
and  power,  upon  the  entrance  to  the  grave,  as  if 
they  would  forbid  the  dead  to  rise  again.  It  is 
evident  that  they  half  fear  the  possibility  of  Christ's 
resurrection,  and  half  hope  that  all  is  only  the  well- 
planned  scheme  of  an  intended  imposition,  and  to 
frustrate  it  nothing  more  is  necessary  than  their 
vigilance.  Thus  vibrating  between  hope  and  fear, 
they  looked  forward  with  much  solicitude  to  the 
third  day. 

The  disciples,  on  the  other  hand,  had  lost  all 
hope  and  energy  since  the  death  of  their  Friend. 
Christ  had  spoken  to  them  of  His  resurrection,  of 
the  Heavenly  Kingdom  and  its  mysteries ;  he  had 
prophesied  everything  as  it  took  place  in  His  latter 
days,  but  they  did  not  understand  Him  at  the  time 
when  He  spoke  to  them,  nor  did  they  remember 
His  words  and  recognize  the  fulfilment  of  His  pro- 


202  THE    INNER    LIFE 

phccies,  in  the  occurrences  of  the  day.  His  enemies 
remember  all  this,  and  fear ;  but  His  friends  have 
forgotten  it.  and  despair.  They  are  children  of  the 
dust,  and  the  wings  of  hope  cannot  rise  beyond  the 
sphere  of  their  understanding.  They  seek  Christ 
in  the  grave,  whilst  He  has  already  broken  the  seal 
of  sin.  What  they  desire  and  most  heartily  long 
for,  they  do  not  dare  to  hope  for,  though  it  is 
already  realized,  though  every  breath  of  air  might 
bear  the  glad  tidings  on  its  wings. 

Among  those  who  went  early  in  the  morning  to 
seek  Christ  in  the  grave,  was  also  Mary  Magdalene. 
Seeing  the  sepulchre  empty,  she  concludes  that  her 
Lord  has  been  taken  away ;  she  weeps,  and  cannot 
find  any  consolation  until  the  Lord  in  His  love  re- 
veals Himself  to  her.  When  I  spoke  last  to  you, 
I  represented  the  efifects  of  Christ's  death  upon 
Thomas ;  it  cannot  be  otherwise  than  interesting, 
to  see  how  it  affected  the  female  portion  of  His  fol- 
lowers. To-day,  therefore,  the  rich  and  attractive 
history  of  Mary  Magdalene  at  the  grave  of  our 
Lord,  shall  engage  our  attention.  May  the  Lord 
be  with  us,  and  bless  us,  while  I  attempt  to  show : 

How  THE  SADNESS  OF  MART  MaGDALENE,  WHEN 
STANDING  AT  THE  GRAVE  OF  THE  LORD,  AND  LONGING 
AFTER    Him,   was   CHANGED   INTO    UNSPEAKABLE   JOY. 

The  text  says :  But  Mary  stood  without  at  tlie 
sepulchre  iveeping.  The  grave  and  tears  belong  to- 
gether; they  are  inseparable.     The  grave  is  the 


OF    MARY    MAGDALENE.  203 

monument  erected  by  death  to  all  that  lives ;  it  is 
the  symbol,  too,  of  the  vanity  of  all  earthly  good. 
All  that  is  on  earth  must  sink  into  the  grave. 
Neither  beauty,  nor  health,  nor  riches ;  neither 
honor  nor  splendor ;  neither  power  nor  influence ; 
neither  strength  nor  youth,  can  exempt  any  one 
from  the  common  fate  of  all  that  is  perishable.  All 
must  sink  into  the  grave,  where  the  blooming  youth 
moulders  with  the  gray-headed  sire — where  the 
ashes  of  the  profligate  mingle  with  those  of  the 
ambitious — where  the  pious  and  good  slumber  by 
the  side  of  the  wicked.  Whoever,  therefore,  stands 
at  a  grave,  if  he  be  serious  and  thoughtful,  will  feel 
sad,  either  because  he  remembers  one  whose  ashes 
repose  in  the  grave  beside  which  he  stands,  or  be- 
cause he  is  reminded  of  the  graves  of  friends  and 
relatives,  or  because  he  is  led  to  think  of  his  own 
grave. 

But  Mary  stood  at  the  grave  of  the  Saviour — at 
the  grave  of  Him  who,  she  once  expected,  would 
conquer  death  and  triumph  over  the  grave,  but 
who  now  had  Himself  gone  to  this  dark  abode. 
The  grave  does  not  only  remind  us  of  the  death  of 
the  body,  a  separation  of  the  soul  from  the  body, 
which  separation  is  confirmed  by  the  dark  dwelling 
to  which  the  body  is  consigned;  it  reminds  us,  too, 
of  the  death  of  the  soul,  which  is  caused  by  sin. 
As  the  body  lives  by  the  connection  of  all  its  parts, 
by  the  harmonious  co-operation  of  all  its  organs, 
and  by  the  power  of  life  that  pervades  all  of  them, 


204  THE     INNER     LIFE 

SO  the  soul  can  live  only  by  its  connection  with  the 
spiritual  world,  and  by  the  power  of  God  that 
reigns  in  it  and  animates  it.  This  connection  being 
destroyed  by  sin,  the  divine  power  is  excluded  and 
the  soul  is  dead.  The  dust,  into  which  the  body  is 
converted  after  death,  does  not  feel  its  deprivation 
of  life ;  but  the  soul,  separated  from  God,  is  con- 
scious of  its  death ;  and  as  often  as  it  thinks  of 
death,  of  its  separation  from  the  source  of  life,  it 
cannot  help  feeling  a  horror  which  fills  the  heart 
with  sadness,  and  with  a  desire  after  One  who  can 
restore  it  to  life  again.  When  Mary  stood  at  the 
grave  of  the  Lord,  who  had  promised  the  restora- 
tion of  the  soul  to  life  and  the  annihilation  of  the 
power  of  sin,  what  else  could  she  do  but  weep?  and 
how  could  she  feel  otherwise  than  sad?  Joy,  per- 
manent joy,  we  can  possess  only  when  a  sense  of 
everlasting  life  pervades  us.  But  when  we  desire 
to  know  whether  an  all-controlling  love  exists  be- 
yond the  stars — whether,  when  death  has  separated 
soul  and  body,  we  will  ourselves  continue  to  live 
and  meet  our  departed  friends  again ;  when  we 
desire  to  know  this,  and  have  no  means  to  satisfy 
our  desire,  then  we  must  feel  sad.  Such  sadness 
does  not  depend  on  external  circumstances,  but 
only  and  exclusively  on  the  absence  of  faith.' 
Whether  fortune  smiles  or  frowns  upon  us,  if  we 
have  faith,  we  will  be  cheerful;  on  the  other  hand, 
nothing  can  remove  our  sadness,  so  long,  as.^siti' 
keeps  alive  the  consciousness  of  the  separatioii'oft 


OF     MARY    MAGDALENE.  205 

our  souls  from  God  and  everlasting  life.  This 
was  the  sadness  of  Marj ;  from  it  her  love  to  the 
Saviour  proceeded,  while  He  was  yet  alive ;  and 
from  it  her  tears  flowed  when  she  thought  Him 
dead.  She  knew  only  of  one  joy, — to  be  with  the 
Saviour;  with  Him  her  time  passed  by  like  a  festi- 
val, but  without  Him  her  heart  must  break. 

But  let  us  notice  tJie place  where  she  wept:  "/SAe 
stood,'"  John  says,  ^'ioithout,  at  the  sepulchre,''  when 
she  wept.  As  soon,  however,  as  she  looks  into  the 
grave,  as  soon  as  she  bends  herself  to  examine  it, 
her  eyes  perceive  two  angels,  the  one  sitting  at  the 
head  and  the  other  at  the  foot  of  the  place  where 
Jesus  had  been  lying.  Yet  Mary,  absorbed  in  her 
grief,  does  not  perceive  that  those  before  her  are 
angels.  Having  lost  Him  to  whom  she  had  devoted 
herself  with  lasting  gratitude,  whom  she  served 
with  the  deepest  tenderness,  for  whose  promises  she 
had  been  waiting,  whom  she  loved  and  revered  in 
greatest  sincerity  and  earnestness — the  whole  world 
is  without  interest  to  her,  is  empty  for  her,  how- 
ever much  it  may  offer  to  the  eye.  Her  state  may 
be  compared  to  that  of  a  traveller,  who  follows  with 
his  eyes  the  setting  sun,  and  watches  it  with  in- 
tense delight  until  it  sinks  beneath  the  horizon; 
wherever  then  he  turns  his  eyes,  he  perceives  on 
every  plant  and  every  object  nothing  but  the  image 
of  the  sun.  So  Mary's  eyes,  clouded  by  tears,  can- 
not see  anything  distinctly,  except  that  she  has 
suffered  an  irreparable  loss.     This  heavy  though^ 

18 


206  THE    INNER    LIFE 

reigns  in  her  bosom,  and  shuts  up  every  avenue  to 
any  other  idea  that  might  present  itself  from  with- 
out. 

Yet  what  Mary  could  not  see,  we  can  see  now. 
Angels  accompanying  our  Lord  through  life,  followed 
Him  into  the  grave.  These  invisible  powers  were 
invisibly  active  to  develop  a  new  life,  a  power  which 
should  conquer  death  and  triumph  over  the  grave. 
Angels  are  immortal.  Their  nature  forms  a  most 
striking  contrast  with  the  work  of  death.  Whoever 
sees  them  in  a  grave  cannot  but  be  reminded,  that 
whilst  all  that  is  earthly  must  die,  there  is  some- 
thing which  will  live  forever;  that  whilst  all  be- 
longing to  time  is  finite,  there  is  something  which 
is  infinite — which  will  continue  after  all  that  the 
eye  can  see  shall  have  perished.  It  is  impossible 
for  our  thoughts  to  be  altogether  occupied  with 
death,  when  we  see  beings  before  our  eyes  that  are 
immortal.  But  Mary  did  not  recognize  angels ;  for 
her  mind  was  too  full  of  the  idea  of  mortality, 
decay  and  disappointment. 

Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  the  angels  inquire. 
They  ask  this  question,  not  from  ignorance  of  the 
cause  of  Mary's  tears,  but  from  wonder  and  aston- 
ishment. "  What  cause  have  you  to  weep,  when 
you  stand  at  the  grave  of  the  Saviour  who  has 
broken  the  chains  of  death  ?  See,  there  is  no 
death  in  this  grave,  no  decay,  no  destruction ;  this 
grave  is  not  the  abode  of  confusion,  darkness  and 
fear,  but  jt  is  the  sweet  and  cheerful  chamber  of 


OF    MARY    MAGDALENE.  207 

life,  where  light,  order  and  regularity  reign.  Here 
everything  is  in  its  proper  place.  Here  lies  the 
napkin,  there  the  linen.  Nothing  indicates  the 
power  of  death,  but  all  manifests  a  peaceful,  silent, 
and  miraculous  development  of  life.  Here  there  is 
no  cause  for  weeping ;  here  there  is  no  tomb,  not  a 
chamber  of  death  ;  here  is  the  peaceful  haven  of 
rest,  the  smiling  region  of  hope." 

But  Mary  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of 
the  question.  Occupied  with  one  thought,  filled 
with  one  grief,  seeking  One  only  and  turning  away 
from  all  that  is  not  Himself,  she  says,  with  female 
naivete,  Tltey  have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I 
hnow  not  where  they  have  laid  Him. 

These  words,  so  tender  and  affecting,  betrayed  a 
childlike  innocence  and  an  attachment  to  Christ, 
of  M'hich  the  tender  nature  of  woman  alone  is  sus- 
ceptible. She  does  not  doubt  for  a  moment  but  that 
the  persons  before  her  know  whom  she  means  by 
the  words.  My  Lord.  She  knows  of  but  One  who 
is  her  Lord ;  Him  alone  she  seeks ;  to  Him  alone 
she  belongs ;  His  feet  she  had  washed  with  her 
tears ;  Him  she  had  followed  to  the  cross,  not 
shrinking  from  the  sight  of  scattered  skulls,  but 
exposing  herself  to  many  dangers  and  especially 
to  the  revilings  of  a  rude  and  unfeeling  crowd ; 
Him  she  would  now  go  to  seek,  and  if  dangers  of 
all  kinds  impede  her  delicate  feet.  There  is  a 
beauty  in  the  love  and  sadness  of  Mary,  which 
attracts  us  the  more  strongly,  the  more  we  examine 


208  THE     INNER     LIFE 

it ;  the  pen  of  man  can  never  describe  it ;  it  must 
be  felt. 

When  we  contrast  Mary's  love  with  our  own  indif- 
ference to  our  Saviour,  we  must  feel  ashamed  and 
humbled  in  the  dust.  There  was  a  time  when  the 
Eastern  continent,  overflowed  with  infidelity,  had 
taken  away  the  Lord,  and  no  one  asked  where  He 
had  been  laid.  And  even  now  in  our  own  land 
are  w^e  surrounded  by  sects,  that  have  stolen  the 
Lord  and  buried  Him,  we  cannot  tell  where.  They 
have  buried  Him  in  their  reason,  and  deny  that  He 
exists  any  longer.  They  have  put  their  trust  in 
that  fallible  and  uncertain  power,  whose  delight  it 
is  to  doubt  its  own  assertions — to  doubt  the  only 
true  Friend  of  our  souls,  on  whom  alone  our  peace 
rests  on  earth  and  our  hope  in  the  hour  of  death. 
They  have  removed  Him  out  of  their  sight,  lest 
some  should  adhere  to  Him  and  forsake  them. 
Oh  !  that  many  would  turn  and  ask,  like  Mary, 
You  have  taken  away  our  Lord;  tell  us  where  you 
have  laid  Him,  that  we  may  go  and  seek  Him  ! 
that  their  tears  might  flow  and  veil  their  eyes,  so 
that  they  could  see  nothing  but  Christ,  w^ho  loved 
them  and  died  for  them  ! 

Again :  When  Mary  in  her  grief  had  thus 
spoken,  she  turned  herself  back,  and  saw  Jesus  and 
knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus.  He  whom  she  seeks  is 
close  by  her  to  console  her,  to  comfort  her,  but  she 
does  not  know  Him  ;  He  stands  at  her  side,  but 
she  seeks  Him  at  a  distance ;  He  speaks  to  her,  but 


OF     MARY    MAGDALENE.  209 

she  does  not  recognize  His  voice.  What  is  the 
cause  of  all  this  ?  As  Thomas  was  determined  not 
to  believe  in  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  so  Mary, 
feeling  convinced  that  He  was  dead,  could  not  for  a 
moment  hope  to  see  Him  alive  again.  Grief  and 
hope  exclude  each  other ;  when  one  fully  takes 
possession  of  the  mind  the  other  must  depart. 
Mary  Joves  the  Saviour,  but  she  is  not  yet  able  to 
believe.  Hence  it  is,  that  though  Christ  speaks  to 
her  by  the  angels,  and  though  He  speaks  to  her 
Himself,  she,  absorbed  in  the  thought  and  the  re- 
membrance of  the  dead,  cannot  see  the  living. 
And  is  it  otherwise  with  us  ?  Christ  is  near  us 
when  we  mourn,  to  comfort  us — when  we  tremble 
in  the  storms  of  life,  to  strengthen  us — when  we 
have  no  rest  in  our  bosoms,  to  give  us  peace — when 
passions  rage  within,  to  advise  us,  to  direct  us,  to 
guide  us.  And  though  He  is  near  us  and  speaks 
to  us  through  conscience,  by  His  Word,  by  adver- 
sity and  prosperity,  we  do  not  hear  Him,  we  do 
not  recognize  Him.  It  is  faith  alone  that  discovers 
the  Lord  in  all  that  surrounds  us.  Hence  the  true 
believer,  who  desires  to  see  the  Lord  and  only  the 
Lord,  perceives  Him  everywhere.  To  him  He 
appears  in  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun ;  the  even- 
ing breezes  whisper  the  name  of  the  Saviour  in  his 
ear ;  when  the  dewdrops  sparkle,  when  the  stars 
of  the  night  glitter,  he  feels  that  the  Lord  is  near; 
for  all  that  is  reminds  him  of  the  Lord,  points  to 
Him,  comes  from  Him,  and  leads  to  Him. 

18* 


210  THE     INNER     LIFE 

Yet,  though  we  may  be  unwilhng  and  unable, 
by  our  own  thoughts,  to  recognize  the  Lord,  He  can 
make  Himself  known  to  us,  since  His  power  ex- 
ceeds every  other  power.  Mary !  He  calls ;  and 
she  who  had  lost  herself  in  seeking  the  Friend  of 
her  soul,  finds  at  once  both  herself  and  Him  again. 

There  is  a  kind  of  grief  whose  strength  absorbs 
every  other  feeling.  In  it  we  lose  all  desire  for 
food  and  drink  and  for  everything  else ;  our 
thoughts  are  no  longer  ours,  or  at  our  command, 
but  they  centre  without  our  knowledge  or  will 
upon  our  affliction,  which,  like  a  whirlpool,  draws 
within  itself  whatever  comes  near  it,  every  desire, 
every  wish,  and  every  thought.  The  greatness  of 
such  grief  overpowers  us,  and  we  are  lost  in  it. 
Whatever  is  spoken  to  us  cannot  console  us,  for  we 
have  an  ear  only  to  listen  to  the  sighs  of  our 
broken  hearts.  Neither  kindness  nor  love  can 
cheer  us,  for  we  are  inaccessible  to  them.  In  such 
a  state,  nothing  can  help  us  but  a  power  which  is 
able  to  bring  us  back  to  ourselves.  Whoever,  at 
any  time,  has  stood  beside  a  friend  under  the  domi- 
nion of  such  a  grief;  whoever  has  tried,  and  tried  in 
vain,  to  administer  comfort  and  consolation,  in  every 
way  and  by  all  means,  will  know  that  then  the 
fulness  of  his  love  and  sympathy  burst  forth  in 
simply  calling  his  dear  friend  by  his  name.  So  a 
mother  does,  when  the  little  babe  on  her  arms  can- 
not be  silenced  by  any  other  means.  So  Christ 
did,  when  he  stood  before  Mary.     The  name  by 


OF    MARY    MAGDALENE.  211 

which  friends  call  us,  exercises  a  peculiar  power 
over  us.  Though  our  internal  being  cannot  be  ex- 
pressed by  a  mere  word,  a  mere  name,  friends, 
nevertheless,  indicate  clearly,  by  the  tone  in  which 
they  pronounce  it,  that  in  the  name  they  wish  to 
comprise  all  they  love  in  us.  Our  Saviour,  there- 
fore, frequently  either  humbles  or  elevates  His  dis- 
ciples by  the  manner  in  which  He  addresses  them 
by  name.  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  me  ? 
lie  says  to  him  who  denied  Him.  The  name  which 
the  love  of  the  Saviour  had  given  this  disciple  was 
Peter.  But  when  Jesus  wishes  to  humble  him,  he 
calls  him,  not  by  the  name  of  love,  but  by  the 
name  he  had  whilst  in  a  state  of  sin.  On  the 
other  hand,  wdien  He  would  console  Mary,  He  only 
pronounces  her  name.  If  we  had  heard  the  sound 
falling  from  His  lips,  and  perceived  the  love,  tender- 
ness and  compassion  which  it  expressed,  we  could 
understand  it  better.  Mary,  having  lost  herself  in 
grief,  was  now  brought  back  again  to  herself  by 
hearing  the  Saviour's  lips  call  her  by  name,  in  the 
same  tone  of  love  in  which  she  had  so  often  heard 
Him  pronounce  it  before. 

But  this  is  not  all.  The  remark  I  made  with 
regard  to  Thomas  is  true  of  Mary  also.  The  will 
of  the  Lord  accompanied  the  word  spoken  and  pro- 
duced such  sudden  effects.  Let  tliere  he  Light !  and 
the  element,  not  yet  born,  arises  out  of  nothing  and 
shines  in  the  darkness  !  Let  there  he  LUjht !  and 
consolation  breaks  in  upon  the  dark  bosom  of  man ! 


212  THE     INNER    LIFE 

The  Lord  "wills  it,  and  it  is  done.  Mary !  He  says, 
and  a  light  not  known  before  streams  at  once  into 
her  bosom.  Now  every  power  within  her  exclaims, 
that  He  whom  she  loves  and  whom  she  adores  is 
standing  before  her;  that  He  who  died  is  risen 
again ;  that  He  who  was  nailed  to  the  cross  speaks 
to  her  and  is  with  her;  and  like  Thomas,  overcome 
with  joy,  she  stammers  the  word,  Rahhoni. 

Oh !  that  Christ  would  speak  to,  and  bring  back, 
every  one  of  us  to  Himself!  that  He  would  call  by 
name  every  one  who  has  lost  himself  in  sensual 
lusts,  or  in  thoughtlessness  and  levity,  or  in  ambi- 
tion and  avarice,  so  that  each  of  us  might  exclaim, 
Rabhoni!  or,  like  Thomas,  My  Lord  and  my  God! 

But  the  Lord  has  different  ways  by  which  He 
effects  His  designs.  He  dealt  otherwise  with 
Thomas,  otherwise  with  Peter  and  John.  Before 
drawing  some  general  inferences  from  my  discourse, 
I  shall  yet  cast  a  glance  at  this  difference,  as  it  pre- 
sents itself  in  strict  connection  with  the  subject. 

It  has  often  been  asked,  how  it  was  that  Peter 
and  John  did  not  see  angels,  whilst  Mary  saw  them. 
The  answer  is,  that  Christ  treats  each  one  accord- 
ing to  his  nature  and  wants.  In  the  case  before  us, 
He  accommodates  His  dealings  to  the  different 
natures  of  man  and  tcoman.  In  man  there  pre- 
vails by  nature  thought  and  reflection,  strength 
and  courage,  judgment  and  a  desire  to  examine,  to 
investigate,  and  to  come  to  a  result  by  his  own 
activity.     He  is  fearless,  and  disdains  mere  wishes ; 


OF    MART    MAGDALENE.  213 

he  is  decided  in  his  behef  or  unbelief.  Woman,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  tender  and  deUcate,  full  of  feel- 
ing, retires  within  herself,  and  always  seeks  for  pro- 
tection. It  is  her  nature  to  believe  and  confide,  and 
when  she  can  do  neither,  tears  bedim  her  eyes,  and 
sadness  fills  her  bosom.  In  view  of  this  natural 
difierence,  Christ  treated  Peter  and  John  different- 
ly from  Mary.     Let  us  follow  out  this  difference. 

Peter  and  John  went  to  the  grave,  John  fast, 
Peter  slowly;  John,  impelled  by  love,  Peter  re- 
tarded by  the  remembrance  of  his  sin  in  denying 
the  Lord.  Arriving  at  the  grave,  John  just  loohs 
into  it,  but  Peter  sprang  into  it ;  then,  John  having 
followed,  they  examined  it,  and  finding  the  napkin 
and  the  linen,  each  at  its  place,  they  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  Lord  has  risen.  They  stood, 
therefore,  in  no  need  of  the  sight  of  angels.  But 
Mary  needed  comfort ;  she  felt  sad ;  she  was  under 
the  dominion,  not  of  tliouglit,  but  of  feeling  ;  hence 
the  Lord  sends  angels  to  console  her,  and  uses 
entirely  different  means  to  bring  life  and  light  into 
her  heart,  to  change  her  deepest  darkness  into  the 
highest  joy. 

We  must,  therefore,  not  expect  that  what  we 
have  observed  in  the  life  of  Mary,  will  also  happen 
in  the  same  or  in  a  similar  way  to  us  in  order  that 
we  may  believe.  As  the  condition  of  every  one, 
his  disposition,  his  circumstances,  have  something 
peculiar,  so  the  Lord  will  approach  him  in  a  pecu- 
liar manner,  in  a  way  best  adapted  to   his  case. 


214  THE    INNER    LIFE 

Let  each  one  of  us  be  watchful,  and  direct  his  at- 
tention to  whatever  may  ripen  for  him  in  the  course 
of  time ;  let  none  of  us  suffer  anything  to  pass  by 
unnoticed,  which  may  tend  to  advance  our  eternal 
welfare ;  for  the  lowest  as  well  as  the  highest,  the 
least  as  well  as  the  greatest,  may  be  used  by  the 
grace  of  God  to  lead  us  to  Him. 

Having  now  shown  the  effects  which  the  se- 
pulchre of  the  Saviour  had  on  Mary,  and  how  her 
sadness,  while  standing  at  it,  was  changed  into  joy, 
I  shall  proceed  to  consider  iDliat  consolation  ive 
ought  to  derive  from  the  grave  of  Christ. 

In  contemplating  the  sepulchre  of  our  Saviour, 
two  thoughts  present  themselves :  the  one  relates 
to  our  own  graves ;  the  other,  to  the  grave  of  sin. 
We  must  all  die.  One  supplants  the  other,  and  in 
turn  he  is  himself  supplanted.  According  to  a  cer- 
tain order  we  appear  upon  the  stage  of  activity, 
and  according  to  a  certain  order  we  are  called  off 
again,  the  one  amid  joy  and  happiness,  the  other 
amid  grief  and  distress.  Whoever  may  have  shone 
in  honor  or  power,  whoever  may  have  been  weighed 
down  by  the  troubles  and  cares  of  his  short  exist- 
ence, the  one  as  well  as  the  other,  is  destined  to  be 
confined  to  a  solitary  grave,  there  to  moulder  and 
be  forgotten.  At  the  end  of  our  short  journey  the 
grave  awaits  every  one  of  us,  and  yawns  to  receive 
whatever  lives.  Millions  of  graves  are  lying  under 
the  heavens,  and  every  evening  the  pale  light  of 
the  stars  falls  upon  new  ones.     When  we  see  the 


OF    MARY    MAGDALEiSTE.  215 

work  of  death  around  us,  can  we,  much  as  wo 
Avould  desire  it,  avoid  thinking  that  our  time  also 
will  soon  come,  when  we  shall  be  alone  and  ex- 
cluded from  the  light  of  the  sun ;  when  we  must 
part  with  the  sweet  and  lovely  habit,  to  be  and  to 
live,  and  when  a  stone,  which  we  shall  not  be  able 
to  roll  off,  will  close  up  our  dark  and  narrow  dwell- 
ing ?  We  are  young  yet ;  some  of  us  at  least  are 
in  the  bloom  of  life ;  but  death  is  not  satisfied  with 
plucking  the  superannuated,  gray-headed  sire,  who, 
like  ripe  fruit,  by  its  own  weight,  separates  himself 
from  the  tree  of  life  and  falls  into  the  hand  of  death; 
it  likewise  seizes  the  little  child,  when  its  first 
smiles  have  scarcely  saluted  the  light  of  the  sun, 
and  with  great  ease  converts  the  cradle  into  a 
coffin.  When,  now,  we  reflect  on  the  grave  of  the 
Saviour,  we  must  think  of  our  own  also ;  it  is  our 
duty  to  do  so ;  and  when  we  see  the  stone  rolled  off 
from  the  tomb  of  Christ,  we  cannot  help  asking  our- 
selves :  Who  will  roll  off  the  stone  from  our  graves  ? 
or  shall  it  remain  forever  upon  them  ?  Shall  these 
members  that  now  form  a  whole,  that  now  are  ani- 
mated by  the  same  stream  of  life,  and  that  we  call 
our  own,  never  be  united  again  after  they  have  once 
been  dissolved  into  dust  ? 

But  again :  Reflecting  on  the  grave  of  the  Saviour, 
we  cannot  help  thinking  of  sin,  which  is  followed 
by  death,  as  death  is  by  the  grave.  If  the  stone 
that  lies  on  the  grave  is  heavy  and  impenetrable, 
and  renders  our  dark  abode  inaccessible,  the  stone 


216  THE     INNER    LIFE 

of  sin  that  lies  on  our  hearts  is  still  more  so ;  and 
if  we  cannot  remove  the  former,  we  can  much  less 
remove  the  latter.  Its  weight  is  heavy,  and  presses 
us  down :  as  the  stone  on  the  grave  excludes  the 
light  of  the  sun,  so  the  stone  on  our  hearts  excludes 
us  from  communion  with  God,  impedes  every  noble 
endeavor,  and  shuts  us  up  within  the  sphere  of  our 
own  transgressions  and  of  our  ruin.  And  at  no 
time  will  the  stone  of  sin  press  harder  upon  the 
unbelieving,  than  in  the  hour  of  death.  Fear  will 
seize  them  then ;  for,  to  meet  an  offended  Judge, 
without  the  hope  of  pardon,  is  an  awful  thought. 
To  go  into  eternity  without  knowing  what  awaits 
them  there,  must  render  the  hour  of  death  more 
terrible  than  the  most  glowing  imagination  can  re- 
present it  to  be. 

When  such  thoughts  cast  us  down,  and  we  reflect 
upon  Mary  Magdalene  at  the  sepulchre  of  our  Sa- 
viour, we  are  disposed  to  ask :  What  consolation 
may  be  derived  from  the  grave  of  Christ  ? 

The  grave  of  Christ  was  the  first  that  could  not 
retain  its  prey.  He  whom  death  attempted  to  de- 
stroy, came  forth  a  conqueror  over  it.  In  rolling 
off  the  stone  from  His  grave.  He  rolled  off  the 
stone  of  sin  from  the  hearts  of  all  those  who  believe 
in  Him.  The  grave  can  no  longer  alarm  the  be- 
liever in  Christ ;  for  the  Prince  of  Life,  of  His  own 
free  will,  and  from  a  desire  to  redeem  us  from  the 
terrors  of  death,  sank  into  it.  The  believer  knows 
that  the  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all  who  are 


OF    MARY    MAGDALENE.  217 

in  tlicir  graves  shall  bear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of 
God,  and  shall  come  forth ;  they  that  have  done 
good  unto  the  resurrection  of  life,  but  they  that 
have  done  evil  unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation. 
Before  Christ  had  suffered  death,  the  grave  was 
dark,  but  now  light  shines  around  and  in  it.  Its 
terrors  are  gone ;  it  rather  invites  all  those  who, 
weary  of  life,  and  worn  out  by  sufferings  and  cares 
and  anxieties,  long  for  a  haven  of  rest,  to  throw  off 
their  burdens  and  retire  from  the  world.  It  invites 
the  unfortunate,  on  whom  the  sun  of  life  never  sent 
a  ray  of  joy  and  happiness,  to  come,  leaving  all 
solicitude  and  every  kind  of  painful  anxiety  behind. 
For  the  grave  also  is  the  house  of  God  and  the  gate 
of  Heaven ;  there  we  shall  lie  down  and  sleep  in 
peace,  for  we  know  that  those  who  die  in  the  Lord 
are  blessed. 

Again :  To  the  believer,  who  reflects  on  the 
sepulchre  of  Christ,  the  grave  is  no  longer  the 
workhouse  of  destruction,  but  the  silent  chamber 
in  which  a  new  life  will  develop  itself.  The  germ 
of  a  new  creation  may  be  discovered  in  the  midst 
of  destruction.  As  soon  as  we  become  the  prey  of 
death,  it  may  commence  the  work  of  dissolving 
our  bodies ;  but  we  have  a  right  to  hope  that  all 
the  parts  will  be  reunited,  and  that,  in  a  glorified 
state,  the  same  bodies  will  again  be  connected  with 
our  souls.  For  Christ  rose  from  the  dead,  and  be- 
came the  first  fruits  of  them  that  sleep ;  and  as  all 
die  in  Adam,  so  all  shall  live  in  Christ.     This  rai- 

19 


218  THE    INNER     LIFE 

ment,  which  we  shall  have  to  hand  over  to  the 
grave,  will  be  restored  to  us  again.  For  what  is 
sown  in  dishonor,  will  be  raised  in  glory ;  what  is 
sown  in  weakness,  will  be  raised  in  power;  what 
is  sown  a  natural  body,  will  be  raised  a  spiritual 
body.  The  body  is  the  seed  sown  by  the  hand  of 
the  Lord,  to  germinate  and  ripen  for  eternity. 
Since  Christ  has  burst  the  chains  of  death,  it  can- 
not retain  us ;  but  we  shall  come  forth  formed  for 
Heaven,  and  fit  to  enter  the  perfect  glory  of  the 
Father. 

Now  we  say  to  him  who  stands  at  the  grave  of 
a  friend,  and  weeps  because  he  remembers  with 
sadness  the  ashes  which  once  inclosed  the  soul  he 
loved :  Go  to  the  grave  of  the  Saviour,  meditate  on 
what  He  has  done  for  you,  and  dry  your  tears. 
Honor  the  memory  of  the  deceased,  but  no  longer 
consider  them  dead.  They  live,  and  the  connection 
between  them  and  yourselves  is  not  destroyed. 
They  are  citizens  of  the  city  of  God,  to  which  we 
also  belong  by  faith,  and  which  we  hope  to  enter 
in  the  hour  of  death,  when  we  shall  meet  them 
again.  Having  stood  at  the  graves  of  our  friends, 
and  remembered  them  with  sadness,  we  ought  to 
leave  them  strengthened  in  faith  and  rejoicing  in 
hope. 

Different,  however,  very  different  is  the  condition 
of  those  who  have  not  embraced  the  Saviour.  His 
grave  exists  for  them  as  well  as  for  us ;  they  see 
the  stone  rolled  off  as  well  as  we ;  but  the  stone  of 


OF    MARY    MAGDALENE.  219 

sin  still  rests  on  their  hearts;  and  though  they  can 
see  the  entrance  to  the  grave,  they  cannot  see  an 
eaTCSS  from  it.  When  in  the  hour  of  death  the 
face  grows  pale — when  the  blood  begins  to  circulate 
but  slowly,  and  the  heart  to  beat  irregularly — 
when  their  eyes  grow  dim,  and  darkness  surrounds 
them,  then  it  will  be  in  vain  for  them  to  exclaim 
with  the  great  poet  in  the  struggle  of  death  :  More 
light !  more  light !  They  must  go,  and  they  will  go 
in  despair.  They  must  go  to  meet  their  Judge,  and 
they  will  be  without  hope  or  consolation.  The 
grave  yawns  to  receive  them,  an  eternity  awaits 
them,  but  what  it  will  be  to  them  they  cannot 
know. 

May  Christ  call  each  one  of  us  by  name,  as  He 
did  Mary.  In  regard  to  every  one  of  us,  may  He 
speak  as  He  did  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus :  Take 
away  the  stone.  May  the  stone  of  sin  be  removed 
from  the  hearts  of  all,  so  that  all  of  us  may  believe 
in  Christ,  and  have  everlasting  life  through  Him. 
Amen. 


THE  SOCIAL  JOYS  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

John  2:  1-11. 

Lord,  our  heavenly  Father !  Thou  art  a  great 
and  a  holy  God,  full  of  power  and  wisdom,  but  we 
are  weak  and  frail  beings,  full  of  sin  and  unclean- 
ness,  and  not  worthy  to  take  Thy  holy  Name  upon 
our  polluted  lips.  And  yet  we  appear  before  Thee 
to  adore  and  worship  Thee,  for  Thou  hast  permit- 
ted us  to  call  Thee  our  Father,  to  pray  to  Thee,  and 
express  our  gratitude  and  our  wants  before  Thy 
throne.  Lord  !  we  come  not  in  our  own  name,  but 
in  the  name  of  our  Saviour,  for  whose  sake  we 
would  pray  Thee  to  hear  us. 

We  would  thank  Thee,  Lord  !  for  Thy  continued 
goodness  towards  us.  Thou  hast  been  with  us. 
Lord,  from  our  earliest  youth ;  Thou  hast  pro- 
tected us  from  many  dangers,  and  given  us  food 
and  clothing,  health  and  strength,  and  reason ; 
and  Thou  hast  given  us  many  opportunities  to 
know  Thee  rightly  ;  Thou  hast  preserved  us  until 
this  day,  and  again  hast  granted  us  the  privilege 
to  read  Thy  word  and  to  listen  to  it.  0  God !  grant 
that  these  many  precious  privileges  may  not  pass 
by,  without  our  making  a  proper  use  of  them  ;  that 


THE    SOCIAL    JOTS    OF    THE    INNER    LIFE.     221 

they  may  not  render  us  more  guilty  and  more  care- 
less, but  may  they  lead  us  to  Thee,  and  make  us 
acquainted  with  our  characters,  and  awaken  in  us 
a  desire  for  the  Saviour,  who  by  His  blood  has  ren- 
dered an  atonement  for  the  sins  of  all  who  believe 
in  Him. 

We  would  thank  Thee,  Lord,  this  morning,  for  all 
the  valuable  opportunities  we  enjoy  to  cultivate 
our  minds  and  prepare  ourselves  for  usefulness. 
We  thank  Thee  for  all  the  schools  and  institutions 
established  throughout  the  world,  and  pray  that 
Thou  wilt  abundantly  bless  them.  May  they  be 
true  nurseries  of  piety,  and  may  the  youth  collected 
in  them,  not  merely  fit  themselves  for  usefulness  on 
earth,  but  for  bliss  and  happiness  in  Heaven ;  may 
they  not  learn  to  serve  Mammon,  but  may  they 
early  embrace  Thy  service. 

Lord  !  we  thank  Thee,  that  Thou  hast  watched 
over  us  during  the  past  session ;  Thou  hast  kept 
off  from  this  Institution  sickness  and  death,  and  all 
of  us  have  enjoyed  good  health;  Thou  hast  permit- 
ted us  to  approach  another  vacation,  and  to  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  social  intercourse.  We  thank 
Thee,  Lord,  that  Thou  hast  created  us  social  beings ; 
that  we  are  capable  of  enjoying  each  other's  society, 
and  have  in  it  a  source  of  much  happiness.  Also 
this  vacation  will  bring  parents  and  sons  and 
friends  and  acquaintances  together;  and.  Lord, 
may  every  one  of  us  enjoy  himself,  but  so  as  wall 
be  pleasing  in  Thy  sight.     May  love  be  revived  in 


222  THE     SOCIAL    JOYS    OF 

US,  and  benevolence,  and  kindness,  and  a  readiness 
to  deny  ourselves  and  make  sacrifices,  the  one  for 
the  other.  Lord  !  grant  that  every  one  of  the 
youth  here,  may  find  his  friends  in  health  and 
prosperity,  and  that  the  anticipated  intercourse  with 
them  may  benefit  his  character. 

Bless,  0  Lord,  all  benevolent  societies.  Bless 
the  cause  of  Bibles ;  grant  that  Thy  Word  may  be 
spread  over  the  whole  earth.  Be  with  the  mission- 
aries of  the  Cross. 

It  is  never  more  difficult  to  have  religion  exer- 
cise its  due  influence  over  us,  than  during  times  of 
pleasure  and  recreation.  When  we  kneel  down  to 
pray,  when  we  visit  the  house  of  God,  when  we 
read  the  Bible,  or  when  we  are  engaged  in  the  calls 
of  duty,  we  naturally  feel  serious  and  piously  in- 
clined ; — but  when  we  are  in  the  midst  of  cheerful- 
ness, when  we  enter  a  circle  of  joyous  and  lively 
company,  who  would  expect  us  then  to  think 
seriously  of  God  and  o;^ir  obligations  to  Him  ? 
Pleasure  will  then  be  the  only  subject  of  our 
thoughts  ;  and  many  enter  society,  in  order  to  for- 
get not  only  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  life  for  a 
time,  but  also  the  serious  claims  of  duty  and  the 
warnings  of  religion  and  conscience. 

It  is  for  this  reason,  that  some  who  love  religion, 
whose  delight  it  is  to  meditate  on  the  salvation  of 
souls  and  on  the  means  by  which  to  secure  it,  look 
upon  the  most  innocent    pleasures   as  something 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  223 

abominable,  and  consider  themselves  safer  and 
better  and  more  holy,  in  proportion  as  they  are 
abstemious  and  austere,  and  live  remote  from  the 
pleasures  of  the  world.  But  this  view  does  not 
proceed  from  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 
Heaven  and  earth,  religion  and  our  daily  employ- 
ments, time  and  eternity,  are  not  to  be  disconnected, 
not  to  be  separated,  but  they  are  to  form  a  whole, 
whose  parts,  animated  by  the  same  spirit,  may  pass 
over  easily  the  one  into  the  other.  Whatever 
view  lays  particular  stress  on  one  part  of  Chris- 
tian life  to  the  exclusion  of  another,  is  and  always 
must  be  erroneous;  hence  Christ  recommends 
neither  Stoicism  nor  Epicurism,  for  both  are  ex- 
tremes and  exclusive. 

The  Lord  has  implanted  in  man  a  desire  for 
pleasure,  which  it  would  be  no  less  sinful  to  root 
out  than  to  make  it  the  mainspring  of  all  our 
wishes  and  actions.  It  is  this  desire — which  is  iden- 
tical with  the  irresistible  desire  to  live — that  fills 
our  markets  with  all  kinds  of  articles,  to  adorn  life 
and  render  it  comfortable ;  that  sets  thousands  of 
hands  in  motion,  brings  men  of  different  climes 
together,  and  unites  nation  with  nation ;  that 
imperceptibly,  yet  powerfully,  stirs  every  inclina- 
tion and  every  instinctive  talent  in  man,  and  draws 
out  what  would  otherwise  never  appear;  that 
searches  for  every  good  the  earth  conceals  in  its 
bowels,  for  every  beauty  nature  offers,  and  for  all 
that  may  delight  the  ear,  or  the  eye,  or  rejoice  the 


224  THE     SOCIAL    JOYS    OF 

heart  of  man.  Without  this  desire  the  ocean 
would  forever  have  separated  the  different  por- 
tions of  the  world ;  the  fulness  and  riches  of  the 
productions  of  the  earth,  would  not  have  been 
made  known;  and  the  bountiful  goodness  of  God, 
which  has  endowed  man  with  so  much  ingenuity, 
with  so  many  different  powers  and  talents  and 
capacities  for  all  kinds  of  mechanical  and  fine  arts, 
would  have  remained  hidden  from  our  dull  and 
inactive  eyes,  and  we  should  have  lived  like  the 
brute,  slovenly  and  satisfied  with  coarse  food  and 
the  fur  taken  from  the  animal. 

Yet  while  this  desire  is  entitled  to  our  attention, 
we  must  not  suffer  it  to  reign  over  us,  nor  indulge 
it  in  opposition  to  duty  or  the  claims  of  religion. 
As  little  as  we  should  be  different  persons  in  the 
Church  and  in  common  life,  so  little  should  we  be 
different  persons  in  the  closet  at  private  prayer  and 
in  the  social  circle.  Religion  is  to  penetrate  all 
our  feelings,  to  sanctify  all  our  thoughts,  to  correct 
our  erroneous  views,  and  to  reign  over  all  our  re- 
solutions and  actions ;  it  is  not  to  be  a  mere  cere- 
mony, that  makes  us  feel  holy  on  sacred  days  and 
in  sacred  places,  but  religion  is  to  be  our  constant 
companion  and  guide ;  nor  can  it  be  profaned  by 
introducing  it  into  our  lives  and  into  all  the  rela- 
tions of  life,  for  its  power  is  stronger  than  any 
other,  and  no  pleasure  will  be  dangerous  nor  any 
occupation  sinful,  when  religion  devises  it,  and 
always  remains  present  with  us  ;  for  then,  whether 


TUE     INNER    LIFE.  225 

we  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  we  do,  we  will  do  all 
to  the  honor  of  God. 

The  nearness  of  the  days  of  recreation  and 
pleasure,  to  which  every  one  connected  with  these 
Institutions  is  looking  forward,  has  guided  me  in 
the  choice  of  my  subject.  All  of  you  anticipate 
with  much  delight  a  vacation  that  follows  a  long 
and  laborious  session,  and  it  will  be  more  easy 
to  enlist  your  interest  in  a  subject  corresponding 
with  your  present  feelings,  than  in  one  that  might 
be  entirely  foreign  to  them.  The  words  on  which 
I  intend  basing  my  discourse  may,  however,  remind 
you  of  a  question  not  a  little  discussed  at  present ; 
but  to  keep  everything  away  from  the  minds  of 
my  hearers,  that  might  cause  them  to  expect  re- 
marks which  will  not  be  introduced,  I  would  state 
before  reading  my  text,  that  I  shall  leave  that 
question  entirely  unnoticed. 

You  will  find  the  words  of  my  text  in  the  second 
chapter  of  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  John,  from 
the  1st  to  the  11th  verse. 


And  tlie  third  day  there  was  a  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee  ;  and  the 
mother  of  Jesus  was  there  :  and  both  Jesus  was  called,  and  his  dis- 
ciples to  the  marriage.  And  when  they  wanted  wine,  the  mother  of 
Jesus  saith  i;nto  him,  They  have  no  wine.  Jesus  saith  unto  her, 
Woman,  what  have  I  to  do  with  thee  ?  Mine  hour  is  not  yet  come. 
His  mother  saith  unto  the  servants,  Whatsoever  he  saith  unto  you  do 
it.  And  there  were  set  there  six  water-pots  of  stone,  after  the  manner 
of  the  purifying  of  the  Jews,  containing  two  or  three  firkins  apiece. 
Jesus  saith  unto  them,  Fill  the  water-pots  with  water.  And  they  filled 
them  up  to  the  brim.  And  he  saith  unto  them,  Draw  out  now,  and 
bear  unto  the  governor  of  the  feast.  And  they  bare  it.  When  the  ruler 


226  THE   SOCIAL  joys  of 

of  the  feast  had  tasted  the  water  that  was  made  wine,  and  knew  not 
whence  it  was  (but  the  servants  which  drew  the  water  knew),  the 
govei-nor  of  the  feast  called  the  bridegroom,  and  saith  unto  him.  Every 
man  at  the  beginning  doth  set  forth  good  wine  ;  and  when  men  have 
well  drunk,  then  that  which  is  worse :  but  thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine 
until  uow.  This  beginning  of  miracles  did  Jesus  in  Cana  of  Galilee, 
and  manifested  forth  his  glory  ;  and  his  disciples  believed  on  him. 

The  truth  which  I  wish  to  establish  from  these 
wordsj  is  this  :  We  may  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  social 
intercourse,  and  if  we  do  so  in  a  2:)roper  manner,  they 
tvill  aid  in  the  formation  of  character. 

I.  The  first  part  of  my  proposition  it  will  be 
easy  to  prove ;  for  here  we  have  Christ's  example 
given  in  a  striking  way.  Christ  was  Himself  fre- 
quently present  at  festivals,  and  in  large  societies; 
for  He  was  far  from  that  pride,  which  seeks  for  par- 
ticular holiness  by  separating  itself  from  the  social 
circles  of  joy  and  mirth.  He  was  not  only  present 
on  such  occasions,  but  made  no  distinctions  between 
the  persons  who  invited  Him.  Whether  it  was 
a  publican,  like  Levi,  that  prepared  a  great  feast  for 
Him,  or  a  proud  Pharisee,  that  besought  Him  to 
dine  with  him,  He  would  go  and  be  called  a  friend 
of  publicans  and  sinners,  a  man  gluttonous  and  a 
winebibber,  rather  than  in  a  repulsive  way  slight 
kindness  and  polite  attention. 

So  He  went  to  the  marriage  feast  in  Cana,  at  a 
time  when  many  a  one  of  us  would  have  hesitated 
and  doubted  the  propriety  of  doing  so.  For  it  was 
immediatel}^  after  His  own  baptism,  when  the  Spirit 


THE    INNER     LIFE.  227 

of  God  had  descended  like  a  dove  and  remained 
upon  Him ;  it  was  when  He  had  gathered  the  first 
disciples,  and  when  the  heavens  had  opened  and 
angels  ascended  and  descended  upon  the  Son  of 
Man ;  it  was  therefore  immediately  after  hours  of 
deep  impressions  on  the  disciples,  after  hours  of  a 
very  close  communion  with  God,  that  Christ  took 
them  into  a  cheerful  and  joyous  company.  Would 
not  many  of  us  have  feared  to  profane  those  holy 
hours  by  so  great  a  contrast  ?  or  would  not  all  of 
us  have  feared,  lest  the  general  joyousness  which  is 
the  universal  companion  of  such  a  feast,  might 
obliterate  the  new  impressions  before  they  could 
sink  deep  into  the  hearts  of  the  disciples  ?  Christ, 
our  model  in  all  things,  went ;  He  did  not  ask, 
whether  or  not  the  people  would  consider  His  dig- 
nity as  the  Messiah,  as  a  teacher,  as  a  holy  and 
wise  person,  offended  ;  He  went,  and  John,  who 
records  faithfully  whatever  seemed  important  in 
the  conversations  of  Christ,  was  certainly  not 
struck  with  any  remarkable  sayings  of  the  Saviour 
on  that  occasion,  or  else  he  would  have  taken  some 
notice  of  them,  especially  as  he  is  the  only  one 
that  has  recorded  this  wedding  and  Christ's 
presence  at  it.  No  doubt  Christ  entered  fully 
into  the  joyousness  of  the  guests,  whose  minds  at 
that  time  could  not  have  been  in  a  fit  state  to 
listen  to  doctrines  of  wisdom ;  no  doubt  He  partici- 
pated in  their  cheerful  conversations,  and  added 
His  own  share  to  heighten  the  pleasures  of  the 


228  THE    SOCIAL    JOYS    OF 

company,  and  to  raise  the  cheerfulness  of  the  newly 
wedded  pair  by  exhibiting  the  tender  and  sympa- 
thizing interest  of  a  friend. 

There  is  in  the  whole  conduct  of  Christ,  on  this 
occasion,  not  a  trace  of  that  pride  which  would,  in 
a  nice  yet  perceptible  way,  make  the  company  feel 
how  much  He  honored  it  by  His  presence;  no 
desire  to  render  Himself  prominent,  no  embarrass- 
ment, no  fear  lest  He  should  profane  His  sacred 
and  holy  calling  on  earth,  by  being  in  a  mirthful 
company ;  no  talkativeness,  that  does  not  suffer 
others  to  be  heard;  no  desire  to  show  learning,  and 
manifest  wisdom ;  nothing  that  might  have  been 
calculated  to  make  the  society  feel  that  one  infi- 
nitely more  holy  than  all  who  ever  lived  in  human 
form,  was  among  them.  Christ  was  not  an  enemy 
to  the  joys  of  life.  Those  who  constantly  frown 
down  every  harmless  and  innocent  amusement, 
mistake  the  character  of  the  Christian  religion,  and 
strip  it  of  one  of  its  greatest  beauties — of  its  libe- 
rality and  cheerfulness. 

Another  proof  of  the  first  part  of  my  proposition, 
is  the  miracle  which  Christ  wrought.  For  if  we 
ask  what  the  true  aim  of  the  miracle  wrought  by 
the  Saviour,  during  the  wedding  in  Cana,  may  have 
been,  we  shall  be  reduced  to  but  one  answer  that  can 
satisfy  us.  Whenever  we  see  Christ  work  miracles, 
He  has  one  of  two  purposes  in  view :  either  to 
benefit  his  fellow-men  directly — to  remove  distress, 
gratify  a  real  want,  or  to  introduce  by  them  and 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  229 

attach  to  them,  a  course  of  instruction,  some  reli- 
gious remarks  or  important  doctrines.  But  neither 
of  these  two  purposes  is  the  object  of  the  miracle  men- 
tioned in  the  text.  For,  though  the  embarrassment 
of  the  newly-married  pair  must  have  been  painful, 
because  they  had  cither  not  calculated  on  so  large 
a  company,  or,  for  other  reasons,  had  not  procured 
a  supply  large  enough  for  the  wants  of  their  guests, 
this  was  not  of  sufficient  importance  to  call  forth 
the  divine  assistance  of  our  Saviour.  It  appears 
clearly,  too,  that  the  guests  had  on  the  whole  been 
well  supplied.  Nor  can  it  be  said  correctly,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  the  immediate  object  of  the  mira- 
cle was  the  glory  of  God  or  the  introduction  of  re- 
ligious instruction,  for  this  might  have  been  effected 
by  different  means,  had  no  other  reasons  made  this 
miracle  desirable.  In  addition  to  all  this,  it  must 
be  remarked  that  the  miracle  was  wrought  without 
the  knowledge  of  the  guests. 

Nothing  is  left,  therefore,  except  the  ingenious 
interpretation  of  a  great  commentator,  which  will 
solve  all  difficulties.  The  first  disciples  of  Christ 
were  all  of  them  originally  disciples  of  John  the 
Baptist,  who  considered  a  life  of  abstinence,  of  self- 
denial,  of  solitude,  the  only  correct  one,  and  there- 
fore condemned  all  the  pleasures  enjoyed  by  the 
world.  In  this  respect,  as  in  many  others,  John 
exhibited  the  effects  of  the  law,  and,  as  an  external 
observance  of  commandments  and  external  means 
of  holiness,  are  much  sooner  and  more  readily  re- 

20 


230  THE     SOCIAL    JOTS    OF 

ceived  by  men  than  the  principle  of  internal  sanc- 
tificatiou,  his  disciples  no  doubt  shared  his  views 
and  put  considerable  stress  upon  them.  Now,  when 
the  Saviour  led  them,  at  the  very  outset  of  His 
Divine  ministry,  to  a  festival,  they  could  not  help 
wondering  at  it.  Christ,  to  suppress  every  impro- 
per thought  in  them — to  remove  the  possibility  of 
drawing  a  comparison  between  Himself  and  John, 
— confirmed  His  views  of  life  by  an  appropriate 
miracle,  which  required  a  power  as  much  superior 
to  all  human  strength  as  that  of  Christ  was  greater 
than  that  of  John. 

Thus  Christ  silenced  at  once  all  objections,  all 
reproachful  judgments;  for  now  He  revealed  to 
them  His  Divine  power  in  support  of  His  views  on 
the  pleasures  and  joys  of  life.  This  purpose  of  the 
miracle  was  worthy  of  the  Saviour.  For,  ever  since 
men  have  meditated  on  religion,  there  have  been 
those  who  were  anxious  to  gain  heaven  by  their 
own  good  works,  by  self-inflicted  chastisements,  by 
a  reclusive  life ;  and  here  we  need  not  think  only 
of  the  Hindoo  devotees,  who  live  on  fiillen  leaves, 
on  roots,  and  the  like,  and  remain  for  years  chained 
to  a  single  spot ;  the  Christian  Church  in  all  ages 
can  furnish  us  with  similar  examples.  Christ  leads 
His  own  not  into  solitude,  but  into  the  midst  of 
society;  not  to  moroseness,  but  to  cheerfulness; 
not  to  want  and  poverty,  but  to  riches  and  wealth; 
and  the  wine  He  gave  to  His  friends  at  the  mar- 
riage feast,  is  but  a  foretaste  of  the  wine  of  salva- 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  231 

tion  and  eternal  bliss  which  He  will  pour  out  to 
His  own  in  Heaven. 

IT.  In  passing  over  to  the  latter  part  of  my  pro- 
position, namely,  that  social  pleasures  u-ill  aid  in 
the  formation  of  cliaracter,  let  it  be  understood  that 
I  speak  only  of  the  social  enjoyments  of  life; 
hence  I  need  not  classify  pleasures,  so  as  to  exclude 
some  entirely,  and  admit  others  as  innocent  and 
harmless.  Without  dwelling,  therefore,  on  this 
point,  I  shall  prove  the  assertion  by  answering  the 
question  :  How  shall  ive  enjoy  social  pleasures? 

I  answer,  in  the  first  place,  with  moderation  and 
dignity.  When  His  mother  tells  the  Saviour  that 
they  had  no  wine,  He  answers :  My  hour  is  not  yet 
come.  There  can  scarcely  be  any  doubt  that  Mary 
expected  her  son  to  relieve  the  bridal  pair  of  an 
unpleasant  embarrassment,  and  that  the  Saviour 
Himself  was  willing  to  do  so ;  yet  He  tells  her : 
Woman,  ivhat  have  I  to  do  ivith  thee  ?  My  hour  is 
not  yet  come!  Some  think  that  the  hour  Christ 
speaks  of  was  the  one  appointed  by  the  Father ; 
others,  that  the  Saviour  desired  first  to  cast  a 
glance  at  the  company,  in  order  to  ascertain  whe- 
ther their  state  would  admit  of  an  additional 
bountj^ ;  others,  finally,  that  He  delayed  the  mira- 
cle till  near  the  hour  when  the  guests  would  depart, 
according  to  the  regular  custom.  However  we  may 
explain  the  language,  Christ  exhibits  great  modera- 
tion and  caution.    He  shows  no  anxiety  to  manifest 


232     •  THE   SOCIAL  joys  of 

His  great  and  Divine  power,  to  excite  the  astonish- 
ment of  the  guests  and  gain  their  admiration ;  He 
performs  the  miracle  not  only  at  His  own  hour,  but 
also  unseen  by  all,  except  John  the  Evangelist  and 
the  servants. 

How  very  different  is  this  with  us  !  Frequently, 
when  our  minds  are  excited,  we  are  unable  to  mo- 
derate ourselves  or  appear  with  dignified  calmness; 
if  we  imagine  ourselves  possessed  of  a  talent  or  aji 
agreeable  quality,  we  burn  with  desire  to  exhibit 
it  in  society  ;  if  we  have  some  knowledge,  or  if  any 
occurrences  of  our  lives  seem  to  be  in  the  least  re- 
markable, we  will  constantly  be  ready  to  have 
others  made  acquainted  with  them.  We  are  always 
anxious  to  make  ourselves  prominent,  and  by  our 
talkativeness  and  untimely  ambition,  w^e  often  pre- 
vent those  better  informed  than  ourselves,  from 
being  heard.  If  we  succeed  in  all  this,  our  cheer- 
fulness is  apt  to  pass  beyond  the  bounds  of  pro- 
priety and  politeness  and  dignity ;  our  wit,  if  we 
have  any,  becomes  sharp  at  the  expense  of  otthers ; 
our  judgment  decisive  and  dogmatical;  and  think- 
ing only  of  ourselves,  we  not  unfrequently  convert 
the  room  appointed  for  general  social  intercourse, 
into  the  arena  of  rude  and  impolite  dispute  about 
trifling  things.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  dis- 
appointed, we  lock  our  hearts,  take  no  interest  in 
anything  going  on  around  us,  are  neither  willing  to 
converse  nor  to  listen,  but  brood  over  our  disap- 


THE     INNER    LIFE.  233 

pointed  expectations,  and  consume  the    hours  of 
expected  j^leasure  in  silent  vexation. 

If  then,  to  enjoy  social  pleasures,  we  must  bridle 
our  selfish  feelings,  it  follows,  that  social  intercourse 
must  have  a  favorable  influence  upon  the  formation 
of  character. 

To  enjoy  social  pleasures  rightly,  ice  must  possess 
iJiose  virtues,  winch  adorn  the  character  of  humanity 
everywhere.  Fashions  and  customs  differ,  not  only 
in  different  nations,  but  also  in  the  same  nation  at 
different  times.  They  are  neither  to  be  despised, 
nor  to  be  valued  too  highly ;  yet  on  the  whole  it 
will  never  dishonor  any  one,  if  he  should  ignorantly 
offend  a  fashion.  But  if  any  one  who  enters  a 
social  circle,  is  not  adorned  with  moral  virtues,  if 
his  disposition  is  low,  his  character  unprincipled, 
his  views  offensive,  he  cannot  enjoy  himself  at  all, 
much  less  in  the  proper  spirit.  Disorderly  passions, 
vehement  desires,  are  the  destroyers  of  social  plea- 
sures. The  mere  presence  of  one  individual,  indulg- 
ing such  a  state  of  mind,  poisons  the  joyousness  of  a 
whole  circle  and  deadens  all  longing  for  entertain- 
ment in  every  cheerful  heart.  How  can  there  be  free 
social  intercourse  or  true  enjoyment,  where  envy  and 
jealousy  look  upon  superior  talent,  or  wealth,  or 
beauty,  with  malignant  eyes ;  where  malice  listens 
for  every  word  its  victim  may  speak ;  and  wit  is 
ready  to  inflict  wounds  that  never  heal,  whenever 
an  opportunity  presents  itself?  Or  how  can  there 
be  true  pleasure  where  the  tongue  of  slander  con- 

20* 


234  THE     SOCIAL    JOYS    OF 

tinually  stains  the  honor  of  absent  ones,  where  only 
the  faults  of  our  fellow-men  are  the  favorite  themes 
of  conversation,  but  their  virtues  are  never  sought 
for,  or  if  discovered,  are  carefully  hidden.  Yet  the 
mere  absence  of  those  monsters  of  an  evil  disposition, 
is  not  enough ;  we  must  neither  be  cold  nor  re- 
pulsive, neither  insensible,  nor  inattentive,  nor  in- 
different. To  say  all  in  a  word,  we  must  enter  the 
social  circle  with  true  and  genuine  benevolence,  or 
else  we  cannot  enjoy  ourselves,  nor  gratify  the  just 
desires  of  others  for  entertainment. 

Here  also,  Christ  is  our  model.  He  perceives  the 
situation  of  the  family  in  which  He  tarries,  and — 
whatever  else  His  object  may  have  been  in  working 
the  miracle — He  is  ready  to  assist  them,  and  relieve 
them  of  an  unpleasant  embarrassment.  No  feeling 
was  too  insignificant  to  receive  His  sympathy;  but 
every  suffering,  every  joy,  every  emotion  of  the 
human  heart,  could  claim  His  interest.  And  how 
can  men  render  each  other  happy,  unless  they 
cherish  benevolence  and  sympathize  with  each 
other?  To  live  with  our  fellow-men,  to  meet 
with  them  for  social  recreation,  and  yet  to  take 
no  interest  in  their  occupations,  in  their  under- 
takings, expectations,  and  hopes,  their  sufterings 
and  joys,  at  once  obstructs  the  current  of  all  en- 
joyment. Look  upon  a  circle  in  which  no  one  of 
those  who  form  it,  is  willing  to  forget  himself,  to  re- 
sign his  selfishness  for  a  moment,  in  which  every  one 
thinks  only  of  his  own  plans  and  cares,  and  favorite 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  235 

notions,  and  speaks  of  nothing  with  real  animation 
and  interest,  unless  it  has  some  bearing  upon  him- 
self, and  you  will  soon  see  a  feeling  of  emptiness 
and  weariness  taking  possession  of  the  whole  com- 
pany, and  every  one  will  be  anxious  to  have  it 
broken  up.  But  w^hat  life  must  enter  into  such  a 
circle,  if  everything  that  concerns  man  in  general 
is  interesting  to  us ;  when  we  listen  with  pleasure 
to  the  joys  and  griefs  of  others,  and  by  our  sym- 
pathies brighten  the  one  and  lighten  the  other; 
when  each  one  forgets  himself,  and  with  genuine 
benevolence  of  heart,  is  anxious  to  oblige  others. 
Such  benevolence  is  the  strength  and  power  of  true 
politeness. 

If  then,  to  enjoy  social  pleasures,  we  must  exercise 
genuine  benevolence,  it  follows,  that  social  inter- 
course has  a  favorable  influence  upon  the  formation 
of  character. 

To  enjoy  ourselves  rightly  in  a  social  circle  of 
friends,  ice  must  i^ossess  a  cultivated  mind.  To  con- 
verse, especially  to  converse  well,  demands  much 
knowledge,  a  highly  cultivated  imagination,  and 
great  flexibility  of  mind.  The  mere  sensual  plea- 
sure of  eating  and  drinking  is  worth  but  little;  the 
occurrences  of  the  day  are  soon  exhausted  in  con- 
versation, and  the  state  of  the  weather  may  be 
agreed  on  in  a  few  minutes.  But  conversation  is 
to  continue,  and  unless  we  have  clear  and  distinct 
notions  of  those  things  that  are  generally  interest- 
ing— of  the  nature  of  man,  of  his  destination,  his 


236  THE     SOCIAL    JOYS    OF 

occupations,  his  most  important  concerns,  of  history 
and  of  distant  countries — we  will  tire  out  our  com- 
panions very  soon.  He  who  does  not  possess  a 
well-disciplined  and  well-stored  mind,  a  mind, 
that  is  docile  and  desirous  to  communicate  hand- 
somely what  it  possesses,  and  a  well-cultivated  taste 
that  delights  in  the  productions  of  art,  must  be  either 
a  burden  to  himself  or  to  society.  He  will  sit,  either 
without  speaking  a  word  or,  if  he  opens  his  lips, 
something  insipid  or  trilling  may  be  expected.  The 
true  art  of  conversation  presupposes  rich  stores  of 
valuable  knowledge,  much  cultivation  and  a  lively 
interest  in  everything  good  and  innocent  and  beau- 
tiful; but  above  all  a  fine  taste,  which  never  can 
be  acquired  without  much  pains,  and  which  alone 
will  prevent  us,  on  the  one  hand,  from  selecting 
subjects  too  trifling,  and  on  the  other,  from  becom- 
ing pedantic.  The  empty  head  cannot  possibly 
derive  any  true  enjoyment  from  social  intercourse ; 
fine  allusions,  beauty  of  expression,  generalizing 
remarks,  are  not  understood  by  the  uncultivated ; 
wit  loses  its  point,  and  nothing  can  secure  their 
interest  except  what  pertains  to  their  immediate 
neighborhood. 

If  then  the  enjoyment  of  social  pleasures,  de- 
mands much  valuable  knowledge,  and  if  knowledge 
is  desirable,  it  must  follow,  that  social  intercourse 
aids  in  the  formation  of  character. 

To  enjoy  social  pleasures  rightly,  ive  must  not 
suffer  them  to  ocmrpy  too  much  attention  heforehand. 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  237 

Pleasure  cannot  be  secured  by  metbodical  ar- 
rangements or  systematical  calculations.  Pleasure 
is  a  free  guest,  and  most  frequently  enters  when  least 
expected.  It  is  not  the  fruit  of  artificial  means,  nor 
can  it  be  purchased  with  money.  You  cannot  lay 
hold  of  joy  by  pursuing  it,  nor  can  you  chain  it 
down  by  your  determination  to  retain  it.  A  fes- 
tival, that  is  entirely  artificial  in  its  origin,  that 
does  not  proceed  from  a  longing  of  our  whole 
nature  for  it,  is  like  an  artificial  flower.  It  looks 
like  real  festivity,  but  the  life  of  it  is  wanting; 
it  blooms  like  a  real  flower,  but  has  no  reviving 
fragrance.  Pleasures  and  joys  are  the  free  gifts 
of  Heaven  ;  and  all  we  can  do  on  our  part,  is  to 
render  ourselves  worthy  of  them  by  regular  and 
conscientious  activity.  Then  they  Avill  be  true 
recreations ;  then  little  will  be  required  to  rejoice 
our  hearts.  If  we  are  greatly  fatigued  after  perse- 
vering labors,  we  will  enjoy  rest  anywhere  ;  if  we 
feel  exhausted  from  the  heat  of  the  day,  the  shade 
a  tree  offers,  will  be  a  greater  luxury  than  the 
coolest  marble  hall  to  the  voluptuary.  If  we  have 
suffered  long  from  thirst,  we  will  receive  the  sim- 
plest drink  with  delight ;  if  hunger  sharpens  the 
appetite,  we  will  not  long  for  artificial  cookery. 

To  render  ourselves  worthy  of  social  pleasures, 
conscientious  activity  is  therefore  one  of  their  most 
necessary  conditions.  Christ  did  not  commence 
His  divine  work  on  earth  by  thinking  of  pleasures, 
but  by  collecting  disciples.     If  pleasure  is  the  sole 


238  THE     SOCIAL    JOYS    OF 

object  of  life,  we  will  be  in  pursuit  of  our  own 
shadow  which  it  will  be  impossible  to  grasp,  for  we 
will  thus  destroy  our  capacity  for  enjoyment;  we 
will  desire  drink  when  we  have  no  thirst,  and  rest 
when  we  are  not  fatigued. 

If,  then,  to  enjoy  social  pleasures  rightly,  we 
must  accustom  ourselves  to  a  conscientious  activity, 
it  must  follow,  that  social  intercourse  serves  to 
benefit  our  character. 

To  enjoy  social  pleasures  rightly,  ive  must  try  to 
carry  aicay  ivlth  us  a  pleasant  remembrance,  ivhen  ice 
leave  the  circle.  In  this  respect,  also,  Christ  is  our 
model.  He  parted  with  His  friends  not  only  with- 
out a  reproach,  but  with  true  joy  and  delight,  for 
He  had  rendered  them  more  happy  by  His  pre- 
sence, and  Himself  worthy  of  their  gratitude  and 
blessings ;  He  had  revealed  His  glory  and  secured 
the  regard  of  His  disciples,  for  it  is  said,  His  dis- 
ciples believed  on  Him. 

How  different  is  the  feeling  with  which  men 
return  from  dissipations,  when  perhaps  they  have 
done  in  one  hour  of  excitement  what  will  mar  the 
peace  and  joy  of  their  whole  life,  when  they  have 
given  offence  to  those  who  least  of  all  deserved  it, 
or  when  they  have  disturbed  the  peace  of  an  indi- 
vidual or  a  whole  family.  While  they  are  enjoying 
themselves,  they  have  no  time  to  examine  what 
they  say  and  what  they  do,  but  after  returning  at 
a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  they  cannot  help  reflect- 
ing on  all  that  has  taken  place ;  then  the  offence 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  239 

given  to  others  will  recoil  upon  themselves  and 
take  hold  of  their  own  hearts ;  then  the  close  of 
the  evening  will  become  an  hour  of  account  and 
judgment;  and  how  little  will  any  pleasure  be  worth 
if  it  leaves  a  sting  behind? 

One  of  our  principal  cares  ought  therefore  to  be, 
that  our  whole  conduct,  every  word  and  every 
action,  be  pleasant  and  inoffensive  to  all  present. 
But  above  all.  Christians  should  never  forget  their 
own  honor  and  that  of  their  Master.  Their  whole 
life  is  to  be  a  continued  witness  of  their  Lord ; 
hence  they  must  preserve  their  full  dignity,  their 
entire  superiority  over  all  sensual  dangers  and 
temptations ;  and  with  ease  they  must  be  able  to 
connect  the  highest  with  the  lowest,  labor  with 
recreation,  activity  with  rest,  heaven  with  earth, 
and  a  due  interest  in  the  temporal  welfare  of 
their  friends  with  a  deep  interest  in  the  welfare  of 
their  immortal  souls.  If  at  any  time  they  have 
cause  to  regret  what  they  have  said  or  done,  all 
their  pleasure  is  converted  into  bitterness ;  for  of 
them  it  is  expected,  that  their  eyes  will  look  up 
through  all  the  enjoyments  of  earth  to  the  Giver 
of  them  in  heaven. 

If,  then,  to  enjoy  social  pleasures  rightly,  we 
must  be  watchful  and  preserve  our  dignity  as  men 
and  Christians,  it  must  follow,  that  social  inter- 
course serves  to  benefit  our  character. 

To  enjoy  social  pleasures  rightly,  tee  must  possess 


240  THE     SOCIAL    JOTS    OF 

'personal  piety.  In  the  world  we  see  associated 
with  each  other  strength  and  weakness,  truth 
and  error,  virtue  and  vice,  rest  and  labor,  hope  and 
despair,  joy  and  grief.  Now  we  long  for  a  pleasure 
but  cannot  obtain  it,  and  again,  when  it  is  granted 
to  us,  we  can  no  more  enjoy  it;  now  we  cannot  have 
what  we  need,  and  again,  when  we  feel  no  desire  nor 
want,  we  have  an  abundance.  The  joys  which  life 
on  earth  offers  us,  are  like  oases  in  a  sterile  desert; 
there  is  no  transition  from  joy  to  joy,  no  continu- 
ance, no  connection,  but  all  pleasures  are  followed 
by  languor;  all  our  joys  by  some  degree  of  sadness; 
every  feeling  of  interest  by  that  of  indifference. 
The  world,  it  is  true,  can  give  us  single,  isolated 
joys,  a  thousand  pleasures  and  entertainments,  but 
it  cannot  free  us  from  disappointment  and  vexa- 
tions. The  long-anticipated  pleasure  passes  by  more 
quickly  than  it  arrives,  and  often  leaves  us  less 
satisfied  than  we  were  before.  Gloomy  days  follow 
the  days  of  cheerfulness,  and  we  cannot  help  ex- 
claiming, even  in  our  early  youth.  Ml  is  vanity  ! 

But  if  we  have  piety,  if  we  rejoice  in  Christ,  we 
shall  have  real  joy,  joy  which  does  not  change  nor 
vary,  which  is  the  same  under  all  circumstances, 
even  in  sickness  and  misfortune.  This  joy  is  a 
general  feeling  of  well-being,  of  peace  and  hajopi- 
ness  within.  Without  it  there  can  be  no  true 
delight ;  no  pleasure  will  be  a  true  pleasure,  nor 
any  joy  a  real  enjoyment :  with  it  we  tread  on 
blooming  paths  wherever  we  set  our  feet,  and  enjoy 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  241 

festivals  without  appointing  special  days  for  them. 
As  there  is  no  truth  independent  of  tlie  Truth  ;  as 
there  is  no  beauty  independent  of  beauty  as  such ; 
so  there  is  no  joy  independent  of  joy  in  Christ. 
The  heart  is  an  instrument,  which  is  touched  by 
all  the  occurrences  of  the  day ;  if  an  instrument  is 
out  of  tune,  the  finest  melody  will  be  unmusical 
and  offensive ;  if  it  is  well  tuned,  if  every  string  is 
pure  and  harmonizes  with  all  the  others,  even  dis- 
cords will  pass  over  easily  into  harmonies  and  en- 
hance their  beauty  and  sublimity.  The  heart  is 
in  tune  when  we  have  joy  in  Christ,  when  this  joy 
overshadows  our  whole  being,  breathes  peace  into 
all  our  relations  and  gives  rest  to  our  bosom.  The 
stormy  days  will  be  in  harmony  with  the  calm 
days,  and  every  cloud  that  crosses  the  serene  sky 
above  us  will  only  heighten  its  beauty.  Then  we 
shall  feel  assured  that  a  kind  Father  rules  over  us, 
that  the  love  of  Christ  atones  for  our  sins,  and  that 
even  every  disappointment  in  life  will  bear  whole- 
some fruit. 

Hence,  if  you  desire  to  enjoy  social  pleasures 
rightly,  embrace  religion,  for  it  alone  imparts  that 
joy  which  will  accompany  us  everywhere,  unite  the 
many  isolated  pleasures  which  the  world  affords 
into  one  whole,  and  connect  earth  with  heaven. 

My  young  friends !  In  addressing  you  so  shortly 
before  the  ensuing  vacation,  I  know  full  well  and 
feel  deeply  how  great  your  anticipations  are,  how 

21 


242  THE    SOCIAL    JOTS    OP 

fondly  you  look  for  the  day  and  the  hour,  when  after 
a  separation  of  many  months,  you  will  again  meet 
your  parents,  brothers  and  sisters,  and  the  friends 
of  your  home ;  when  you  will  enjoy  your  season 
of  recreation  in  the  house  of  your  birth — in  those 
places,  all  of  which  are  marked  each  by  some  par- 
ticular occurrence  of  your  childhood.  AVhere  could 
rest  be  more  sweet,  or  recreation  more  cheerful,  or 
pleasure  more  innocent,  than  in  the  circle  of  rela- 
tives— of  those  who  are  dearest  and  nearest  to  us 
on  earth  ?  The  delight  of  parents,  whose  sons  are 
growing  up  in  knowledge,  in  virtue,  and  in  all  that 
adorns  man ;  the  gratificationof  good  sons  with  this 
delight  and  satisfaction  of  their  parents;  the  in- 
terest of  kind  relatives,  and  the  tender  participa- 
tion of  family  friends  in  these  sacred  joys ; — all  is 
pure,  leaving  not  a  trace  of  regret  and  surpassing 
by  far  every  other  pleasure.  All  these  scenes  are 
before  you.  The  anticipated  joy  beats  in  your 
hearts,  sparkles  in  your  eyes,  speaks  in  all  your 
motions,  and  pervades  all  your  remaining  studies, 
attends  every  step,  and  all  your  walks.  I  rejoice 
with  you  sincerely ;  and  whilst  I  wish  that  all  your 
anticipations  may  be  realized,  that  you  may  re- 
cruit your  energies,  restore  your  health,  and  that 
each  of  you  may  have  a  full  share  of  the  bountiful 
goodness  of  God,  I  would  at  the  same  time  beg 
you  to  consider  this  ensuing  time  of  recreation  in  its 
proper  light. 

First  of  all,  then,  thank  God  for  His  goodness, 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  243 

that  lie  has  surrounded  you  with  the  ties  of  love 
and  kindred,  that  during  your  absence  He  has  pre- 
serv^ed  your  parents  and  friends,  that  you  may 
meet  them  instead  of  their  silent  graves ;  thank 
Him,  that  he  has  blessed  many  of  your  friends,  and 
permits  you  to  return  once  more  to  see  those  again 
whom  you  so  much  love. 

But  again  :  ask  yourselves,  what  will  be  the  ex- 
pectations with  which  your  parents  will  receive 
you  ?  What  will  their  hearts  desire  to  know  con- 
cerning you  ?  Will  they  not  long  to  discover  virtues 
which  you  had  not  when  they  saw  you  last  ?  Will 
they  not  expect  to  see  your  faults  corrected,  your 
knowledge  increased,  your  manners  improved,  and 
a  determined  resolution  to  form  a  solid  character, 
and  become  useful  members  of  society  ?  Will  they 
not  be  anxious  to  see  you  sincere  followers  of 
Christ,  that  you  may  become  an  honor  to  your- 
selves, to  your  families,  to  the  Church,  and  to  your 
country  ?  Will  your  parents  rejoice  in  your  pre- 
sence, if  they  cannot  discover  anything  of  all  this  ? 
And  would  not  a  disappointment  be  the  most  cut- 
ting reproach  to  you,  and  take  away  every  joy  and 
every  pleasure  from  your  hearts  ? 

Finally,  I  would  beg  you  to  revive  the  noble  princi- 
ples that  your  fathers  and  mothers  early  inculcated 
upon  you,  and  which  are  too  easily  lost  sight  of,  when 
you  are  left  very  much  to  yourselves.  Gratitude  and 
affection  render  us  teachable.  We  regard  easily  the 
entreaties  of  those  whom  we  love.     Do  not  return 


244      THE    SOCIAL   JOTS   OF   THE   INNER   LIFE. 

therefore  merely  to  add  pleasure  to  pleasure ;  but 
let  every  enjoyment  have  a  tendency  to  fortify 
good  principles,  to  exercise  every  virtue  and  render 
you  more  anxious  to  improve  the  time  of  youth, 
that  in  your  advanced  age  you  may  resemble  the 
tree,  all  of  whose  twigs  are  laden  with  good  and 
wholesome  fruits.  For  it  is  the  true  and  only  pur- 
pose of  family  relations  and  family  intercourse,  to 
awaken  and  draw  out  every  power  of  our  minds, 
to  refine  our  manners,  and  cultivate  our  hearts,  that 
we  may  become  mild  and  tender  and  loving.  We 
are  to  learn  to  regard  each  other,  and  be  taught  the 
duties  of  obedience,  the  sacrifices  of  love,  the  virtues 
of  confidence,  truth,  and  mutual  affection  ;  and  we 
are  to  assist  each  other  in  preparing  for  usefulness 
on  earth  and  for  blessedness  in  heaven. 


THE  INNER  LIFE  A  SONG  OF  PRAISE.* 

Eph.  5  :  19. 
"  Singing  and  making  melody  in  your  heart  to  the  Lord." 

Lord,  our  Heavenly  Father !  Thou  art  Light 
and  Holiness,  but  we  are  sinners !  Whatever  is 
good  and  noble  proceeds  from  Thee  and  has  its 
origin  in  Thee ;  but  whatever  is  evil  and  sinful, 
takes  its  rise  in  our  hearts  and  flows  forth  from 
them  into  our  thoughts  and  words  and  actions. 
Thou  givest  what  is  good,  but  we  abuse  it ;  and 
make  it  a  source  of  evil.  All  Thy  laws.  Lord  !  are 
good  and  perfect ;  Thy  institutions  and  command- 
ments are  good  and  tend  to  the  welfare  of  all 
created  beings ;  but'  we.  Lord  !  dishonor  them,  we 
disobey  them,  violate  them,  and  thus  change  the 
intended  source  of  bliss  into  a  curse  to  ourselves, 

*  Preached  at  the  dedication  of  an  organ  in  the  German  Reformed 
Church,  City  of  Frederick,  Md.,  on  the  25th  of  August,  1839.  Rev. 
Dr.  Zacharias,  who  was  and  still  is  the  Pastor  of  this  Church,  says  in  a 
letter  of  September  10th,  1856,  that  he  well  remembers  "the  oc- 
casion and  the  impression  which  the  sermon  made  upon  the  people. 
Dr.  Rauch  was  earnestly  solicited  to  furnish  a  copy  for  publication, 
which  he  finally  promised  to  do  after  a  revision,  but  his  health  and  the 
pressure  of  other  labors  prevented  hi  m  from  carrying  out  his  kind  pur- 
pose."— Ed. 

21 


246  THE    INNER     LIFE 

and  into  a  fountain  of  misery.  This,  Lord,  is  our 
guilt,  that  we  abuse  Thy  gracious  goodness  and  do 
not  acknowledge  Thee  as  the  Author  and  Ruler  of 
the  Universe,  and  do  not  love  Thee  as  our  Bene- 
factor and  Preserver. 

We  would  thank  Thee,  Lord  !  this  morning,  for 
Thy  continued  goodness  and  mercy  towards  us. 
Thou  hast  protected  us  from  many  dangers,  and 
hast  granted  us  what  we  stood  in  need  of — health 
and  strength,  food  and  clothing,  and  the  full  use  of 
all  our  mental  and  moral  faculties.  While  many 
of  our  fellow-beings  have  been  cut  off.  Lord !  Thou 
hast  preserved  us  and  privileged  us  to  see  the 
light  of  another  Sabbath,  to  read  Thy  holy  word 
and  listen  to  it  as  it  is  preached  to  us. 

But,  Lord !  while  we  render  Thee  our  thanks, 
we  must  confess  in  deep  humility  our  lukewarm- 
ness  in  Thy  service.  We  have  not  always  been 
grateful  for  the  many  tokens  of  Thy  goodness  and 
mercy ;  we  have  not  been  zealous  to  promote  Thy 
kingdom  on  earth  nor  been  faithful  to  our  promise, 
to  go  from  work  to  work  and  live  only  to  Thee  ; 
we  have  not  listened  to  Thy  calls,  but  our  love  has 
been  cold,  and  our  faith  weak.  We  pray,  Lord ! 
that  Thou  wilt  increase  our  love  and  faith,  and 
grant  us  that  disposition,  which  will  render  Thy 
service  an  easy,  a  joyful,  and  pleasant  work. 

0  Lord !  do  Thou  change  the  dissonances  of  our 
life  into  harmony,  our  slavery  to  sin  into  the 
liberty  of  the  Spirit,  our  lukewarmness  into  anima- 


A    SONG    OF    PRAISE.  247 

tion  and  devotion,  our  despondency  into  cheerful- 
ness, and  our  enmity  into  love. 

Grant  that  we  may  never  sing  to  idols,  but  that 
to  Thee  alone  we  may  sing  and  make  melody  in 
our  hearts.  Introduce  these  songs  into  our  lives, 
and  let  them  be  our  chief  delight.  May  our  whole 
life  on  earth  be  one  uninterrupted  song,  whose 
theme  shall  be  Thy  glory  and  power  and  honor. 

Bless  Thy  Church  here  and  in  all  countries. 
May  Thy  word  proceed  from  it  in  all  its  glory  and 
prove  a  blessing  to  all  who  hear  it.  Bless  the 
labors  of  all  who  are  engaged  in  spreading  Thy 
kingdom,  and  grant  them  the  assistance  of  Thy 
Holy  Spirit. 

Singing  to  the  Lord  is  nothing  else  than  a 
fervent  prayer.  The  Christian  Church  in  its 
earliest  stages  sang  not  only  Psalms  and  Hymns, 
but  also  Prayers,  as,  for  instance,  tlie  Lord's  Prayer, 
the  Confession  of  Faith,  the  Gospels  and  Epistles. 
Whatever  fills  the  heart,  will  naturally  flow  forth 
from  it.  As  the  bird  sings  its  little  song,  when  it  feels 
pleasantly,  when  morning  breezes  invigorate  it,  and 
the  rising  sun  changes  the  dewdrops  into  diamonds 
— as  it  sings,  leaj)ing  joyfully  from  twig  to  twig,  so 
our  grief  as  well  as  our  joy  will  break  forth  into 
songs,  and  these  songs  will  relieve  our  bosom  and 
render  its  emotions  more  mild.  To  the  first  Chris- 
tians, the  sufferings  of  the  Saviour,  His  love.  His 
inimitable  nobleness  of  character,  were  more  new, 
more  striking  than  to  us.     We  hear  the  Saviour 


248  THE    INNER    LIFE 

spoken  of  from  our  earliest  youth,  and  we  become 
accustomed  to  His  excellence  and  beauty  as  we 
become  accustomed  to  the  daily  sight  of  brilliant 
sunsets ;  but  suppose  we  had  never  heard  of  a 
Saviour's  love  and  sufferings,  or  suppose  we  had 
grown  up  without  ever  having  seen  the  beauties  of 
a  sunrise — what  would  be  their  effect  upon  us  ? 
We  would  at  first  be  astonished,  amazed ;  but  when 
recovering  ourselves,  our  hearts  would  overflow 
with  a  sense  of  such  love  and  glory  in  a  song  of 
praise.  To  sing,  it  is  not  necessary  that  we  should 
even  move  the  lips ;  we  may  sing  in  our  hearts ; 
we  may  sing  while  we  walk  along  the  street  and 
are  in  the  sight  of  all  men ;  we  may  sing,  when 
we  praise  anything  with  admiration  and  love,  when 
we  speak  of  it  with  rapture.  Without  knowing  it 
our  language  becomes  more  rhythmical,  its  figures 
more  delicate  and  select,  its  turns  and  expressions 
more  poetical.  We  may  sing,  when  we  meditate 
silently  on  the  goodness  of  God,  or  when  we  pray 
in  our  closet. 

Solomon,  in  early  times  already,  connected  in- 
strumental music  with  singing ;  and  this  also  was 
natural.  For  what  songs  cannot  express,  what  the 
language  of  man  cannot  convey  by  words,  instru- 
mental music  succeeds  in  bringing  to  the  percep- 
tion of  every  one.  It  renders  manifest  our  deepest 
feelings  and  emotions ;  now  it  attunes  its  strings  to 
our  joy,  then  to  our  grief;  and  as  its  sounds  steal 
upon  the  ear,  as  its  sweet  melodies  find  their  way 


A     SONG    OF    PRAISE.  249 

to  our  hearts,  we  are  filled  with  melody  ourselves; 
our  wild  passions  are  hushed,  and  we  are  prepared 
to  listen  with  much  more  delight  to  the  truth  as  it 
is  announced  to  us.  The  words  of  Plato  are  well 
known  :  the  melancholy  sounds  of  the  flute,  he  said, 
reminded  him  of  his  eternal  home,  and  filled  his  soul 
with  irresistible  longing  for  something  better  than  he 
could  find  on  earth.  It  is  known,  too,  that  when 
the  celebrated  Haydn  composed  his  Creation,  he  felt 
so  devotional,  so  fervent,  that  frequently  during 
the  progress  of  the  composition,  his  own  melodies 
would  make  the  tears  start  into  his  eyes,  would 
bend  his  knees  and  move  his  lips  to  offer  a  prayer 
to  the  Lord.  It  is  known,  too,  that  the  same  com- 
poser, when  once  an  audience,  enraptured  by  his 
noble  melodies,  applauded  him,  rose  up,  and  lifting 
his  hands,  trembling  with  age,  exclaimed,  with  his 
eyes  raised  to  Heaven  :  Before  Him  bow  yourselves ; 
to  Him  alone  the  honor  is  due. 

But  if  this  be  so  with  profane  music  and  common 
instruments,  how  much  greater  must  be  the  effect 
of  the  sounds  and  melodies,  that  flow  forth  from 
that  instrument,  which  for  five  centuries  has  been 
devoted  exclusively  to  religious  purposes.  Its  full, 
sonorous  sounds,  rising  from  the  deepest  to  the 
highest ;  its  notes,  so  pure  that  no  earthly  agency 
seems  to  produce  them  ;  its  power,  that  bursts 
upon  our  ears  like  a  hurricane  of  melodies  and 
harmonies,  now  overpowering  us  and  again  raising 
us  by  the  softest  and  most  gentle  tones ; — all  serve 


250  THE    INNER    LIFE 

to  make  the  organ  that  instrument  which,  more 
than  any  other,  is  set  apart  to  sacred  use — as  an 
accompaniment  of  our  prayers  and  religious  songs. 
If  some  sad  and  mournful  one,  distressed  in  mind, 
comes  into  the  house  of  God,  and  there  hears  the 
choir,  guided  by  the  strong  and  full  sounds  of  the 
organ,  sing  the  words  : 

"  Come,  ye  disconsolate,  where'er  ye  languish," 

will  he  not  feel  soothed  at  once  and  resigned  and 
silenced  ?  Will  he  not  feel  as  if  angels  were 
approaching  him  in  these  sounds,  and  bringing 
heavenly  consolation  ?  And  when  the  man  who 
has  not  yet  repented,  sits  under  the  powerful  sounds 
of  this  sacred  instrument,  will  he  not  feel  as  if 
every  note,  every  melody,  were  tearing  open  a 
wound  in  his  heart,  and  reminding  him  of  his  trans- 
gressions ;  will  these  notes  not  serve  to  soften  his 
heart  and  give  him  a  yielding  disposition  ?  Many 
an  impenitent  man  has  acknowledged,  that  sacred 
music  affected  him  more  than  the  best  sermon ; 
that  he  received  his  first  impressions  while  listen- 
ing to  a  sacred  song  or  melody.  And  this  is 
rational.  The  Lord  may  use  many  ways  to  teach 
the  sinner,  but  music,  sacred  music  above  all, 
seems  to  be  accompanied  by  an  irresistible  power. 
It  seems  to  silence  our  desires,  to  subdue  our 
obstinacy,  to  render  us  tractable  and  ready  to 
yield  for  awhile  our  own  views  and  opinions. 
Hence  it  is  that,  as  far  as  our  knowledge  extends, 


A    SONG    OF    PRAISE.  251 


we  see  all  nations  making  use  of  some  kind  of  song 
and  music  in  their  divine  worsliip. 

With  these  views  on  music,  I  shall  consider  to- 
day the  manner  in  wldcli  we  ought  to  sing  to  the  Lord. 
In  considering  it,  I  hope  to  prove  at  the  same  time, 
that  the  life  of  the  Christian  is  cheerful,  and  accom- 
panied constantly  by  a  heavenly  music,  which 
directs  his  steps  and  determines  all  his  movements. 
The  true  song  to  the  Lord  is  a  consistent  Christian 
life. 

Singing,  in  the  first  place,  must  be  an  easy  work, 
without  visible  effort  and  labor.  Yet  all  of  us  can- 
not sing;  nor  can  any  one  sing  whenever  he 
chooses,  but  even  those  who  sing  well  at  one  time 
cannot  at  another.  On  what  does  this  difference 
depend  ?  If  we  would  sing  easily,  our  hearts  must 
overflow  with  deep  emotions;  we  must  be  animated 
by  them  ;  they  must  move  our  lips  and  flow  forth 
into  sounds.  To  sing  without  animation,  is  an 
irksome  task,  a  slavish  work ;  it  is  like  speaking 
when  we  have  no  thoughts  to  communicate — like 
emitting  sounds  without  feeling — like  making  mo- 
tions with  the  lips  without  corresponding  emotions 
of  the  heart.  But  when  our  bosom  beats  high ; 
when  without  thinking  much  and  without  any 
effort  on  our  part,  feelings  are  breathed  into  sounds ; 
when  w^hat  is  inclosed  in  the  heart,  exciting  joy 
and  delight  and  hope,  strives  to  break  forth  and 
demands  utterance; — then  singing  will   be  easy, 


252  THE    INNER    LIFE 

and  exercise  a  heavenly  and  unknown  power  not 
only  on  those  around  us  but  also  on  ourselves. 

This  then  we  have  to  notice  first,  that  unless 
we  are  moved  to  sing  from  within,  the  song  of  our 
lips  will  be  without  life ;  as  little  as  one  who  has 
no  music  in  his  heart,  can  either  enjoy  it  when 
heard,  or  succeed  in  learning  it,  so  little  can  any 
one  sing,  whose  heart  is  not  full  of  song.  If  he 
sings  nevertheless,  his  song  will  be  like  a  painted 
rose,  which  indeed  resembles  a  living  one,  but  has 
neither  its  life,  nor  the  freshness  of  its  colors,  nor 
the  sweetness  of  its  fragrance.  The  fulness  of  the 
heart  must  send  the  sounds  to  the  lips ;  they  must 
only  repeat  what  the  heart  has  sung  already ;  they 
must  only  convey  to  the  ear  what  excites  and 
moves  the  bosom.  Every  one  who  sings  is  aware 
of  this.  His  voice  is  cramped,  does  not  come  forth 
freely  and  fully,  when  he  is  expected  to  sing 
against  his  inclination.  But  when  he  loves  a  song, 
then  he  pours  his  whole  soul  into  his  voice,  and  it 
will  be  pleasant  and  lovely.  Hence  it  is  evident 
that  we  may  sing  without  opening  the  lips,  and 
that  we  can  sing  well  only  when  that  which  moves 
the  heart,  is  the  theme  to  which  we  sing. 

Let  us  illustrate  this  truth  by  a  few  examples. 
When  on  a  beautiful  summer's  eve,  a  crowd  of  little 
children  to  whom  care  and  trouble  are  strangers, 
merrily  and  joyfully  raise  their  tender  voices  to  a 
song,  we  will  admit  that  singing  is  to  them  an  easy 
work,  and  will  also  admit  that  they  sing  not  to 


A     SONG    OF    PRAISE.  253 

Him,  to  whom  their  song  is  due,  but  to  the  intense 
pleasure  of  a  careless  existence,  which  is  not  ha- 
rassed, neither  from  within  nor  from  without,  by 
anything  disagreeable.  The  past  does  not  trouble 
them,  and  the  future,  if  it  presents  itself  at  all,  lies 
before  them  like  a  blooming  May-day. 

Or  when  once,  full  of  despondency,  the  soldiers 
of  Frederick  the  Great  faced  the  enemy  and,  just 
before  entering  the  battle,  raised  a  song  to  the  Lord 
of  their  own  accord,  it  was  confidence  in  Him  who 
guides  the  fate  of  nations  as  well  as  those  of  indi- 
viduals, and  reliance  on  their  good  cause,  that  in- 
spired the  song.  Such  a  song  is  easy ;  it  streams 
forth  from  the  bosom  as  water  from  the  fountain, 
and  quickens  both  those  that  sing  and  those  that 
hear. 

Or  when,  after  many  years  of  scarcity,  perhaps  of 
famine,  the  chiming  of  bells  announces  the  slow 
approach  of  the  groaning  wain,  richly  laden  with 
the  first-fruits  of  an  abundant  harvest;  when  then 
all  stream  into  the  house  of  God,  what  is  it  that 
takes  them  there  ?  A  desire  to  sing  the  song  of 
their  hearts.  The  sounds  of  the  organ  swell 
higher  and  higher ;  they  fill  the  edifice  and  fill  every 
heart  in  it  with  intense  delight ;  the  choir  takes 
the  lead,  and  the  free,  easy  and  jojful  song  of  the 
crowded  assembly  rises  like  sweet  incense  to  Hea- 
ven, bearing  on  its  symphonies  the  gratitude  and 
love  of  a  grateful  people.  They  sing  from  their 
hearts,  and  sing  to  the  Lord ! 

22 


254  THE     INNER     LIFE 

To  sing  with  ease  presupposes,  then,  that  we  are 
absorbed  in  a  great  emotion,  and  to  sing  to  the 
Lord,  that  we  love  Him — that  His  Spirit  lives  and 
dwells  in  our  hearts,  and  streams  forth  from  thence 
into  our  feelings,  thoughts,  words,  and  actions.  Our 
hearts  must  be  full  of  devotion  and  reverence.  Not 
from  mere  custom  and  habit  are  we  to  sing  to  the 
Lord  now  and  then,  but  always,  because  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  is  powerful  in  us,  and  fills  our  hearts 
and  moves  our  lips  with  love.  Then  songs  will 
rise  of  themselves,  and  will  be  the  free  effusion  of 
our  hearts,  that,  dwelling  before  the  throne  of  God, 
admiring  His  holiness  and  majesty,  rejoice  in  secret 
communion  with  the  Father  of  all. 

But  can  we  sing  thus,  if  our  life  is  not  devoted 
to  the  Lord  ?  Can  we  sing  thus,  if  our  will  is  in 
opposition  to  that  of  the  Redeemer  ?  As  long  as 
the  schism  in  our  nature  continues;  as  long  as  we 
are  drawn  partly  towards  the  earth  and  only  partly 
towards  Heaven,  so  long  we  cannot  sing  in  the  right 
spirit ;  for^  to  sing  in  the  right  spirit,  we  must 
live  in  the  right  spirit.  The  lips  that  curse  God  and 
man  cannot  sing  of  love,  as  little  as  hands  stained 
with  crime,  can  clasp  each  other  for  prayer.  To 
sing  with  ease  and  in  the  right  spirit,  our  minds 
must  constantly  rise  heavenward,  must  be  disposed 
to  go  from  work  to  work,  and  follow  the  call  of 
duty  without  delay  whithersoever  it  may  lead. 

If  you  say  that  singing  in  the  text  means  to 
praise  the  Lord,  I  agree  with  you.     But  the  ways 


A     SONG    OF     PRAISE.  255 

in  which  we  may  praise  the  Lord  are  different ;  and 
there  is  no  praise  more  acceptable  to  Him  than  that 
which  consists  in  doing  His  will  and  in  living  for 
His  purposes.  That  this  kind  of  praise  is  meant 
here,  appears  from  the  whole  connection. 

Singing,  in  the  second  place,  if  it  shall  be  easy, 
requires  a  great  deal  of  practice.  When  any  one 
is  learning  to  sing,  he  finds  that  all  the  sounds 
which  lie  in  his  throat  are  easy  and  natural  to 
him ;  but  others  are  at  first  difficult.  To  become 
a  singer,  however,  he  must  conquer  these  difficul- 
ties, for  all  sounds  must  be  at  his  command. 

Thus  it  is  with  the  Christian  who  desires  to  sing 
to  the  Lord.  His  whole  life  ought  to  be  one  unin- 
terrupted song ;  but  to  have  it  so,  many  difficulties 
are  to  be  overcome.  It  is  easy  for  us  to  do  the  will 
of  the  Lord,  when  His  commandments  correspond 
to  our  wishes  and  desires  and  inclinations.  It  is 
our  duty,  for  example,  to  gather  property,  to  pro- 
vide for  our  families,  to  take  care  of  our  health,  to 
love  our  children  and  parents ;  the  fulfilment  of 
such  duties  is  easy  and  pleasant  in  most  instances. 
But  when  we  are  commanded  to  give  what  we 
have  to  the  Lord,  to  sell  all  our  property  and  fol- 
low Christ,  to  love  Christ  more  than  father  and 
mother,  wife  and  sister,  brother  and  child  :  then 
our  hearts  feel  little  inclined  to  sing  to  the  Lord ; 
then  the  mind  grows  dull,  our  hearts  cold,  our 
senses  obtuse,  and  our  hands  negligent.     Then  it 


256  THE    INNER     LIFE 

appears  that  our  souls  are  not  altogether  where  our 
calling  is,  our  hearts  not  where  our  songs  and 
prayers  ought  to  be.  To  sing,  therefore,  with  full 
confidence,  we  must  learn  to  resign  the  world,  and 
place  our  whole  hope  in  God;  we  must  learn  to 
silence  our  selfish  wishes  and  desires,  and  to  subdue 
our  most  favorite  inclinations,  if  they  come  into  col- 
lision with  the  Divine  will.  We  must,  in  a  word, 
practise  obedience  towards  God  to  such  an  extent, 
that  we  will  rejoice  in  nothing  but  in  fulfilling  His 
will,  in  doing  only  what  He  commands,  and  in  de- 
voting ourselves  wholly  and  entirely  to  His  honor 
and  glory. 

Singing,  in  the  third  place,  must  be  a  free  effusion 
of  the  heart.  It  must  not  be  forced.  The  voice 
must  not  cling  to  the  throat,  but  flow  forth  freely, 
to  fill  the  ears  that  hear  it.  Yet  while  a  free  effu- 
sion, it  is  subject  to  laws,  without  which  the 
simplest  melody  cannot  be  formed.  Rousseau 
composed  a  little  melody  of  but  three  notes ;  yet 
he  could  do  so  only  by  observing  closely  the  rules 
according  to  which  their  position  might  be  changed. 
No  sooner  are  these  laws  violated,  than  dissonance, 
instead  of  melody  and  harmony,  will  be  heard,  and 
our  offended  ears  will  turn  away  with  aversion. 
When,  on  the  other  hand,  our  free  songs  observe 
the  laws  of  music,  then,  without  any  external 
power  and  force,  by  their  own  charms  and  beauties, 
they  reign  over  our  affections,  purify  them,  weaken 


A    SONG    OF     PRAISE.  257 

or  strengthen  them,  excite  our  emotions,  and  direct 
them  whithersoever  the  sounds  flow.  A  lively 
song  will  cheer  us ;  a  melancholy  one  will  make 
us  sad.  None  that  sings  and  hears  such  a  free  but 
well-regulated  song,  can  withstand  its  magic,  gentle 
and  yet  irresistible  power ;  unconsciously  he  will 
listen  and  turn  himself  towards  the  region  from 
which  the  sounds  reach  his  ears ;  and  many  a  tear 
of  melancholy  or  of  joy  has  been  elicited  by  a 
simple  tune. 

The  nature  of  singing  in  general,  is  also  the 
nature  of  our  songs  to  the  Lord.  Freely  and  with- 
out any  external  pressure  they  must  ascend  as 
incense  rising  from  our  hearts,  and  yet  they  must 
follow  the  direction  of  certain  laws.  To  sing  to 
the  Lord,  is  to  serve  the  Lord ;  hence  the  nature  of 
singing  is  to  be  that  of  serving  the  Lord.  And 
here  it  is  where  most  of  us  mistake  true  and 
genuine  liberty.  If  I  follow  the  law  of  God,  I 
cannot  execute  my  own  will,  and  consequently 
cannot  be  free ;  and  if  I  follow  my  own  will,  I 
imagine  myself  free,  but  do  not  sing  to  the  Lord. 
This  is  the  contradiction  which  will  always  disquiet 
us,  until  we  acknowledge  that  true  liberty  does  not 
exclude  the  law,  but  rests  on  it  as  its  basis.  As 
there  is  but  one  source  of  truth  and  but  one  source 
of  light,  so  there  is  but  one  source  of  true  liberty, 
and  this  source  is  the  will  of  God.  This  will  must 
become  the  soul  and  life  of  our  will ;  as  the  light 
in  falling  upon  the  eye  fills  it,  and  as  the  eye  longs 

22 


258  THE     INNER    LIFE 

for  the  light,  and  can  see  only  it  and  by  it,  so  the 
will  of  God  is  to  fill  our  will ;  so  we  are  to  love  it, 
to  long  for  it,  and  can  be  free  only  by  it.  Then 
all  contradiction  will  be  removed,  when  we  freely 
and  cheerfully  unite  our  will  to'  the  Divine  will, 
and  thus  sing  to  the  Lord  a  free  song,  and  yet  one 
that  is  regulated  by  law.  Such  a  song,  such  a  life 
will  make  us  truly  free  ;  when  what  is  our  duty  be- 
comes the  theme  of  the  songs  in  our  hearts ;  w^hen 
we  obey,  because  we  love  to  do  so  and  could  not 
do  otherwise  ;  when  we  listen  to  the  Divine  will, 
not  as  to  a  power  that  cannot  be  resisted,  but  be- 
cause we  acknowledge  it  to  be  the  true  friend  to 
liberty ;  when  what  the  will  of  God  demands  of  us, 
becomes  the  demand  of  our  own  rational  and  regene- 
rated wills  ; — then  we  shall  be  free  ;  our  song  will 
be  acceptable  to  the  Lord,  and  will  reign  over  us, 
and  will  govern  all  our  feelings  and  thoughts  and 
actions.  Then  the  service  of  God  will  no  longer  be 
a  dreary  labor,  forced  upon  us  ;  but  it  will  be  a  free 
and  easy  thing  to  serve  Him  whom  we  love — to  be 
His  who  is  ours — to  rest  in  the  bosom  of  Him  who 
dwells  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  believe  in  Him. 

Singing,  in  the  fourth  place,  must  be  accompa7iied 
loiilijoy.  When  troubles  and  cares  fill  the  breast, 
we  do  not  feel  much  inclined  to  sing.  But  as  soon 
as  a  ray  of  hope  enlivens  us  the  heart  is  relieved 
by  song.  We  may  sing,  indeed,  when  we  sorrow 
at  the  graves  of  our  beloved  friends,  but  we  rejoice, 


A     SONG    OF    PRAISE.  25,9 

too,  in  tlie  Lord,  bcause  He  is  our  consolation  and 
comfort  in  affliction.  Singing  and  rejoicing  cannot 
be  separated ;  if  the  one  ever  appear  externally 
without  the  other,  internally  they  nevertheless  still 
cling  together.  There  is  a  grief  that  is  sweet  and 
pleasant  to  man.  There  are  tears  sometimes  in 
our  eyes,  while  there  is  a  smile  on  the  face.  In 
such  grief  our  song  may  be  sorrowful,  our  voice 
low  and  deep,  yet  we  sing,  because  we  rejoice  in 
our  submission  to  God — in  our  resignation  or  in  our 
hope  and  expectation. 

But  how  shall  the  Christian  secure  to  himself  the 
joy  which  is  necessary  to  animate  his  singing  to  the 
Lord  ? 

The  Christian  is  permitted  to  call  Him  a  Father, 
who  holds  in  His  hand  the  whole  world,  as  man 
does  the  scales  in  his  :  and  shall  he  not  rejoice  ?  The 
Christian  can  praise  and  adore  Him,  whom  nature 
praises  and  all  things  that  live  in  it :  shall  he  not  be 
happy  and  full  of  joy  ?  We  who  are  but  a  link  in 
the  chain  of  beings,  who  are  but  a  step  of  the 
great  ladder  of  animated  nature,  we  who  are  but 
dust  and  ashes,  can  send  forth  a  sound  into  the 
great  harmony  of  creation,  which  sings  and  praises 
the  Lord  in  a  continued  and  uninterrupted  chorus  : 
have  we  not  a  theme  for  our  songs,  worthy  of 
our  highest  joy?  Whilst  we  adore  the  Lord,  His 
praises  re-echo  from  the  heavens  without  number, 
from  the  hosts  of  suns,  from  the  blooming  earth, 
from  the  shining  moon,  from  the  sparkling  stars, 


260  THE    INNER    LIFE 

from  worlds  and  multitudes  of  creatures,  that  in- 
habit the  stars  and  suns  :  is  this  thought  not  cal- 
culated to  animate  our  songs  to  the  Lord  ?  The 
Lord  is  our  invisible  Friend,  with  whom  we  can 
commune ;  He  is  our  Father,  who  knows  all  our 
circumstances,  and  what  we  need ;  Christ  our 
Saviour  hears  the  expressions  of  our  gratitude  and 
submission,  and  He  will  hear  the  last  sighs  of  our 
expiring  life  :  what  can  there  be,  that  should  more 
eftectually  tune  our  hearts  to  a  joyful  song  to  the 
Lord  ? 

When  beings  whose  glory  it  is  to  be  created  in 
the  image  of  God,  whose  dignity,  to  imitate  their 
Creator,  and  whose  noble  calling,  to  commune  with 
their  Saviour  as  with  the  friend  of  their  bosom, 
cannot  find  words  and  tones  to  praise  God,  they 
must  charge  themselves  with  lukewarmness,  with 
coldness,  with  dulness,  and  ingratitude.  Whither- 
soever the -eye  turns,  in  every  beauty  of  nature,  in 
every  product  of  the  earth,  we  perceive  the  good- 
ness of  God ;  but  the  Christian's  hope  and  faith  are 
not  circumscribed  by  the  horizon  of  his  bodily 
eye ;  they  rove  beyond  the  stars,  where  a  happiness 
awaits  him,  that  no  eye  has  seen,  and  no  ear  has 
heard.  If  he  does  not  bear  the  altar  in  his  bosom, 
on  which  the  flame  of  gratitude  and  love  is  never 
extinguished;  if  he  does  not  rejoice  in  the  Lord, 
who  freed  him  from  the  curse  of  sin  and  restored 
him  to  favor  with  God  ;  if  he  does  not  joyfully 
bless  and  praise  and  honor  Him  in  song  and  in  his 


A    SONG    OF    PRAISE.  261 

life; — he  is  worse  than  the  heathen,  who  never 
forgets  his  imagined  duty  to  the  idols  his  own 
hands  have  made.  It  must  not  be  so  ;  every  day 
must  be  with  the  Christian  a  holy  day,  a  day  of 
thanksgiving  and  adoration,  of  prayer  and  song ; 
his  heart  must  feel  what  his  lips  profess,  and  his 
lips  must  constantly  be  ready  to  pronounce,  with 
joy  and  delight,  the  name  of  the  Father  and  of  the 
Son. 

The  source  of  the  Christian's  joy  is  a  rich  one : 
the  stream  flows  without  interruption,  and  it  is 
fullest  in  seasons  of  need.  Knowing  that  whatever 
may  occur  to  him  in  life,  comes  from  God,  he  is 
not  only  enabled  to  endure  and  conquer  through 
Christ,  but  he  discovers  goodness  and  divine  love, 
where  others  see  darkness  and  despair.  For,  to 
those  who  love  Christ  and  live  in  Him,  He  imparts 
a  supernatural  power,  to  know  the  truth  better 
daily,  to  will  what  is  right,  to  love  the  brethren, 
to  conquer  passion,  and  to  resist  temptation. 

Singing,  in  the  last  place,  must  be  full  of  melody 
and  Imrmony.  A  monotonous  song  wearies  the 
ear.  Sounds  seek  each  other ;  there  is  a  power 
of  attraction  in  them,  an  affinity  that  causes 
them  to  go  in  search  of  each  other,  and  to  seek 
that  close  union  in  which  they  are  at  rest.  When 
many  sounds  of  the  same  quality  are  thus  con- 
nected and  follow  in  a  regular,  measured  succession, 
we  have  melody.     In  every  melody  the  stronger 


262  THE    INNER     LIFE 

and  the  weaker,  the  lower  and  the  higher,  the 
darker  and  the  clearer  sounds  relieve  each  other : 
though  there  is  much  variety,  there  is  still  union ; 
and  this  union  in  the  variety  is  Beauty. 

The  life  of  the  Christian  must  possess  melody 
also.  The  variety  of  his  feelings  and  inclinations, 
of  his  thoughts  and  wishes,  of  his  views  and 
desires,  of  his  resolutions  and  actions,  must  all  of 
them  tend  to  the  same  union  and  be  governed  by 
the  same  leading  note,  by  the  spirit  of  love,  by  a 
virtuous  disposition.  However  different  the  situa- 
tions may  be  in  which  he  may  find  himself;  how- 
ever hard  and  severe  the  claims  may  be  which  life 
has  upon  him ;  whether  ambition  would  decoy 
him  or  riches  tempt  him,  whether  his  days  flow  on 
in  pleasure  or  he  must  spend  them  in  sorrow; — all 
must  unite  to  make  melody  in  his  heart  to  the 
Lord.  The  Christian's  heart  is  like  an  instrument : 
if  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  breathe  upon  it,  excite  and 
move  it,  purify  and  animate  it,  the  melody  of  his 
life  will  be  lovely.  But  to  say  all  in  a  word :  god- 
liness and  holiness  are  the  melodies  that  must 
reign  in  our  lives  :  where  one  virtue  is,  there  all 
the  others  must  be.  As  there  can  be  no  melody, 
unless  all  the  keys  of  an  instrument  are  at  our 
command,  so  there  can  be  no  godliness,  unless  all 
the  virtues  are  exercised  and  all  duties  fulfilled — 
unless  all  our  desires  and  passions  are  brought  into 
subjection  to  the  mind  of  Christ.  There  is  an  affi- 
nity in  virtue  much  stronger  than  in  chemical  sub- 


A    SONG    OF    PRAISE.  263 

stances  or  in  sounds ;  this  affinity  proceeds  from 
the  spirit  which  lives  in  all  virtues,  and  which  will 
certainly  produce  all,  if  any.  If  the  tree  is  healthy 
and  full  of  sap,  all  the  branches  will  be  laden  with 
fruit. 

Again  :  when  sounds  of  different  qualities  are  so 
united,  that  a  well-regulated  proportion  exists  be- 
tween them,  and  that  they  exist,  not  in  succession, 
not  one  after  the  other,  but  all  at  the  same  time, 
forming  only  one  full  and  rich  sound,  we  get  what 
is  called  harmony.  As  melody  prevents  monotony, 
so  does  harmony  prevent  dissonance. 

The  Christian's  song,  his  life,  must  be  full  of  har- 
mony. The  Christian  does  not  stand  alone,  but  he 
must  live  in  a  family,  as  a  member  of  his  nation, 
and  of  the  whole  human  race.  Every  person  has 
his  own  views  and  peculiar  desires ;  and  there  will 
be  differences  in  every  family,  in  every  neighborhood, 
from  time  to  time.  Yet  if  there  is  a  guiding  tone, 
these  differences  will  pass  over  into  harmony.  Har- 
wo/?^  presupposes  differences  ;  striking  the  same  key, 
we  get  only  monotony ;  but  striking  a  number  of  them 
at  once,  we  get  harmony,  if  they  agree,  though  each 
of  them  differs  from  the  other  in  strength,  in  height, 
and  quality.  This  we  ought  to  acknowledge  in  our 
daily  intercourse.  We  ought  not  to  expect  that  every 
one  should  think  exactly  as  we  do,  for  this  would 
produce  a  lifeless  monotony ;  all  we  ought  to  look 
for  is  the  union  of  spirit  and  principle.  If  we 
accustom  ourselves  to  consider  every  one  entitled  to 


264  THE    INNER    LIFE 

his  own  views,  we  will  be  willing  to  exchange  or 
correct  ours ;  we  will  not  look  upon  a  mutual  and  free 
communication,  even  of  opposite  opinions,  as  offen- 
sive, for  we  will  be  convinced  that  we  must  live, 
not  to  our  favorite  notions,  but  to  one  great  interest, 
before  which  all  individual  desires  must  give  way. 
All  men  taken  together  form  a  whole ;  all  talents 
and  all  qualities  are  not  united  in  one  man,  but 
distributed  among  many ;  what  the  one  has,  another 
has  not,  whilst  he  in  turn  may  have  something 
which  the  former  finds  wanting  in  himself.  But  if 
all  regard  themselves  as  members  of  one  whote,  each 
one  will  supply  the  deficiency  of  the  other ;  and  all 
together  be  like  a  beautiful  tree,  whose  many 
branches  form  one  crown.  As  a  bed  of  flowers  loses 
nothing  but  gains  by  its  variety,  when  the  brilliant 
carnation  blooms  by  the  side  of  the  pure  and  white 
lily,  when  the  dahlia  mingles  its  branches  and  burst- 
ing buds  with  the  proud  calla  of  the  Nile :  so  the 
different  talents,  qualifications  and  callings  of  men, 
their  different  views  and  wishes,  form  one  great 
and  beautiful  whole,  if  they  are  all  pervaded  by  the 
same  spirit.  And  what  is  this  spirit?  A  spirit  of 
love  and  of  friendship.  Where  it  reigns,  there  we 
shall  have  harmony ;  but  where  envy  and  jealousy 
torture  the  minds  of  men,  dissonance  and  confusion 
must  be  the  inevitable  consequence. 

Be  it  so,  then,  that  some  of  us  speak  in  a  low, 
others  in  a  high  tone,  some  in  a  gentle  and  soft,  others 
in  a  harsh  and  rough  voice;  if  we  but  esteem  and 


A    SONG    OF    PRAISE.  265 

regard  each  other,  if  instead  of  speaking  unkindly, 
contradicting  and  opposing,  we  learn  to  speak  loith 
each  other  in  love  :  then  rough  and  soft  voices  will 
mingle  harmoniously,  and  we  will  make  music  to 
the  Lord  without  instruments.  But  how  can  we 
love  our  fellow-men,  without  loving  Him,  who  first 
taught  us  to  look  upon  all  men  as  members  of  the 
same  family  ?  Without  Christ  there  is  no  harmony 
in  families,  none  in  nations,  and  none  between  us  and 
God.  As  far  as  history  can  carry  us  back,  we  see 
the  beginning  of  all  national  intercourse  originate 
either  in  war  which  resulted  in  a  state  of  peace,  or 
in  mercantile  or  some  other  selfish  interest.  When- 
ever this  interest  ceased,  then  the  friendship  called 
forth  by  it  decayed. 

If  you  ask,  whence  then  shall  harmony  and  peace 
of  a  permanent  nature  proceed  ?  We  must  answer, 
not  from  the  sciences ;  for  though  the  truth  of 
science  is  general,  the  instruments  through  w^hom 
this  truth  is  exhibited  become  the  pride  of  a  nation, 
and  awaken  the  envy  and  jealousy  of  others.  Nor 
can  this  peace  ever  proceed  from  the  arts ;  for  the 
mechanical  arts  have  invented  the  cannon,  the  sword, 
and  instruments  of  torture,  and  have  rendered  war 
and  national  hostility  more  terrible  and  more  de- 
structive than  they  ever  were  before.  Nor  can  it  pro- 
ceed from  the  fine  arts ;  for  though  they  live  in  the 
sphere  of  harmony  and  peace ;  though  it  was  the  lyre 
of  Orpheus  which  is  said  to  have  tamed  wild  animals ; 
they  are  nevertheless  likewise  calculated  to  call  forth 

23 


266  THE    INNEE     LIFE 

disputes  and  jealousies.  Do  not  England  and  France, 
Germany  and  Italy,  Europe  and  America,  even  now 
claim  each  the  highest  rank  in  the  department  of 
literature  and  art  ?  It  is  religion  alone — the  fear  of 
the  Lord  whose  bloom  and  fruit  is  the  love  of  God, 
that  can  restore  peace  and  harmony.  Before  the 
Lord  we  are  all  alike;  none  is  richer  before  Him 
than  the  other;  all  of  us  are  made  of  the  same  dust, 
all  of  us  destined  for  the  same  eternal  home.  One 
truth  there  is  and  one  love ;  one  Saviour,  and  one 
Father  of  all ;  one  way  that  leads  to  Heaven,  one 
work  to  be  done  by  all ;  one  spirit,  and  one  hope ! 

Singing,  therefore,  to  the  Lord,  we  will,  we  must 
produce  harmony  in.  our  families,  among  our  neigh- 
bors, in  our  nation,  among  all  nations,  and  with 
Him  from  whom  all  peace  and  all  harmony  flows 
forth.  And  we  may  know  that  we  do  not  sing  to  the 
Lord,  but  to  passions  and  evil  desires,  when  we  can- 
not harmonize  with  our  friends,  nor  with  strangers  ! 

Let  this  organ  be  the  symbol  of  your  lives,  and 
of  your  intercourse  with  each  other.  As  there  are 
many  pipes,  of  different  tone  and  capacity,  as  there 
are  some  that  will  fill  the  whole  edifice,  and  others 
so  soft  that  they  cannot  be  heard  distinctly  in  full 
and  sonorous  harmonies,  yet  give  sweetness  to  the 
whole,  and  are  required  to  complete  it, — so  in  your 
lives,  the  strong  and  the  weak,  the  harsh  and  the 
soft,  the  tender  and  the  stern,  produce  a  lovely 
sound,  only  when  they  are  united. 

But  consider,  too,  that  it  requires  the  hand  of  a 


A    SONG    OF    PRAISE.  267 

master,  to  elicit  the  slumbering  melodies  from  this 
noble  instrument.  When  the  hand  of  the  unlearned 
attempts  to  touch  it,  dissonance  will  issue  forth  from 
it,  and  grate  on  the  ear ;  all  sounds,  let  loose  with- 
out order  and  proportion,  will  run  through  each 
other;  no  tone  will  lead  the  rest,  but  all  will  be 
confusion  and  disorder.  So  the  human  will  is  an 
instrument  which  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  alone  can 
master.  His  Spirit  alone  can  call  forth  lovely 
sounds  and  lovely  melodies.  But  if  passion  or  un- 
holy desire  takes  the  lead;  if  self-interest,  envy, 
pride,  or  ambition  attempt  to  govern  our  race,  then 
there  will  be  disunion;  laws  will  be  despised;  and 
the  state  of  the  world  will  resemble  the  ocean,  when 
weaves  rise  upon  waves,  and  all  of  them  rush  con- 
fusedly upon,  and  thus  destroy  each  other. 

In  conclusion,  let  me  entreat  you  not  to  forget  to 
sing  to  the  Lord.  Turn  your  ivhole  life  into  a 
melody  to  Him.  You  who  believe — you  who  have 
entered  into  communion  with  Christ,  do  not  grieve 
His  Spirit,  who  is  to  be  the  light  of  your  life.  And 
you,  who  are  still  out  of  Christ,  who  have  suffered 
all  His  previous  calls  thus  far  to  pass  by  unnoticed, 
remember  that  those  alone  are  happy  whose  hearts 
are  pure ;  that  peace  cannot  dwell  in  your  hearts, 
unless  you  seek  and  find  it  in  Christ;  remember, 
too,  that  to  serve  the  Lord  is  not  a  hard  service,  if 
we  love  Him ;  but  it  is  a  free,  a  joyful,  an  easy 
work,  for  He  assists  and  aids  us ;  it  is  a  song  that 
we  sing  to  Him,  a  melody  that  we  make  to  Him  in 
our  hearts  ! — Amen. 


THE  INNER  LIFE  A  PILGRIMAGE. 

Psalm  39  :  12; 

"  Hear  my  prayer,  0  Lord,  and  give  ear  unto  my  cry ;  hold  not  thy 
peace  at  my  tears :  for  I  am  a  stranger  with  thee,  and  a  sojourner,  as 
all  my  fathers  were." 

Lord,  our  heavenly  Father !  we  adore  Thee  as 
the  eternal,  infinite,  unchangeable  Lord  and  Father 
of  all  life.  Thou  alone  art  beyond  all  the  changes 
of  time ;  from  everlasting  to  everlasting  Thou  art 
God ;  but  we  are  reminded  by  every  year  as  it 
passes,  that  we  are  constantly  undergoing  new 
changes ;  that  our  faculties  either  increase  in 
strength  or  decrease ;  that  all  in  and  around  us  is 
mutable,  and  that  nothing  on  this  earth  remains 
forever. 

Every  year,  every  day,  every  hour  teaches  us 
that  we  depend  entirely  on  Thee ;  that  we  exist 
only  by  Thy  will;  that  the  minutes  of  our  life 
are  appointed  by  Thee  ;  our  days  pass  by  quickly, 
and  every  hour  brings  us  nearer  to  eternity ;  we 
are  strangers  on  this  earth ;  we  have  no  continuing 
city  here ;  we  are  pilgrims  travelling  to  a  distant 
country,  and  are  permitted  to  sojourn  on  earth 
but  for  a  time.     But  while  we  feel  that  we  are 


THE    INNER    LIFE    A    PILGRIMAGE.        269 

strangers  here,  may  we  feel,  too,  Lord !  that  we  are 
called  to  be  Thy  citizens,  citizens  of  the  heavenly 
city,  where  there  are  no  more  changes  ;  where  time 
no  longer  reigns,  but  where  happiness  and  joy  will 
be  uninterrupted  and  eternal.  0,  how  pleasant  the 
thought,  that  while  we  are  pilgrims  on  earth  and 
strangers,  we  are  Thy  pilgrims,  for  Thou  hast  re- 
vealed Thyself  unto  us ;  Thou  hast  shown  us  that 
while  we  are  surrounded  by  a  transitory  world, 
there  is  a  haven  of  rest  and  peace  ;  an  inheritance 
incorruptible  and  undefiled,  that  fadeth  not  away. 

Lord !  grant  that  none  of  us,  hearing  and  read- 
ing Thy  counsels,  may  suffer  them  to  pass  unheeded, 
but  may  we  think  on  our  ways  and  turn  our  feet  unto 
Thy  testimonies ;  may  each  one  make  haste,  and 
delay  not,  to  keep  Thy  commandments.  Wilt 
Thou  teach  us  Thy  statutes,  and  may  the  law  of 
Thy  mouth  be  more  precious  to  us  than  thousands 
of  gold  and  silver. 

Lord !  we  pray,  that  as  in  the  year  now  about  to 
close  Thine  eye  has  been  watching  over  us,  so  Thou 
wilt  take  care  of  us  also  in  the  one  to  come.  May 
it  be  a  year  in  which  many  shall  be  gathered  into 
Thy  Church  on  earth ;  may  the  heathen  speedily 
be  converted  and  Christians  become  more  devoted 
to  Thee. 

Pour  out  Thy  Spirit  upon  all  nations ;  where 
there  now  is  war  do  Thou  restore  peace,  and 
order,  and  right.  Be  with  our  country,  and  bless 
it  with  pious  rulers ;   keep  far  from  them  all  un- 


270  THE    INNER    LIFE 

lawful  and  selfish  desires,  and  make  them  faithful 
organs  of  right  and  justice. 

Bless  all  the  Churches  and  all  the  Schools  of 
learning ;  bless  the  arts  and  sciences,  in  as  far  as 
they  promote  Thy  glory ;  and  let  all  the  joys  of 
social  intercourse  serve  as  means  to  make  us  more 
grateful  and  more  devout. 

Dwell,  0  Lord !  in  this  Institution  ;  may  every 
one  here  seek  Thee,  and  may  this  School  become  a 
nursery  of  true  piety.  We  all  stand  in  need  of 
Thee,  0  Lord !  Be  near  to  the  inexperienced  among 
us  and  make  them  serious ;  teach  those  who  are  in 
health  to  be  grateful;  those  who  are  afflicted,  to 
seek  for  consolation  in  the  Saviour ;  those  who  are 
tempted,  to  be  strong ;  and  those  who  are  sick,  to  be 
cheerful.  Pass  not  by  those  whom  Thy  hand  has 
smitten,  but  be  their  comfort,  their  joy,  and  conso- 
lation. 

Man  stands  constantly  on  the  narrow  spot  which 
lies  between  the  past  and  the  future.  The  future 
is  not  yet,  the  past  has  been,  but  is  no  more ;  and 
the  narrow  spot  on  which  man  stands,  the  present, 
is  fugitive ;  while  we  speak  of  it,  while  we  think 
it  to  be,  it  is  added  to  the  past  and  gone,  never  to 
return.  This  process  repeats  itself  daily  and 
hourly ;  and  every  moment  we  may  say  :  an  old 
year  ends  and  a  new  one  commences,  for  the  stream 
of  time  flow^s  on  uninterruptedly,  and  time  itself  is 
nothing  but  the  succession  of  the  present  to  the 
past  and  of  the  future  to  the  present. 


A    PILGRIMAGE.  271 

But  there  are  moments  when  these  constant 
changes  become  more  perceptible ;  not  to  speak  of 
such  as  may  be  found  in  the  life  of  each  individual, 
we  will  turn  our  attention  at  present  to  that  day, 
which  throughout  the  wide  extent  of  Christendom 
connects,  and  at  the  same  time  separates,  one  civil 
year  from  another.  We  are  never  more  strongly 
invited  to  reflect  seriously  on  life  and  its  end,  than 
when  we  become  conscious  of  the  fact  that  another 
year  has  fled.  The  period  of  human  life  is  made 
up  of  years  ;  by  years  we  calculate  its  duration  ; 
certain  decisive  years  mark  the  great  transitions  of 
life  from  childhood  to  youth,  from  youth  to  man- 
hood, and  from  manhood  to  old  age.  When  we 
remember,  how  few  the  years  are  which  we  are 
permitted  to  spend  on  this  earth,  that  but  a  few 
of  us  live  to  see  seventy  or  eighty,  we  cannot, 
on  the  one  hand,  help  looking  back  upon  a  year 
as  it  dies  away  behind  us,  with  all  its  joys  and 
sorrows,  with  all  its  evil  and  good  deeds,  and 
on  the  other  hand  cannot  avoid  looking  forward 
with  interest  upon  the  dark  bosom  of  the  new  year, 
concealing  within  itself  bliss  or  misery  for  each  of 
us.  But  looking  backward  and  forward,  looking 
upon  years  that  are  gone  by  and  upon  years  that 
are  to  come,  we  cast  a  glance  at  our  whole  life,  and 
are  led  to  ask  ourselves,  what  is  its  end  ?  what  are 
we  ?  and  what  do  we  aim  at  ? 

The  answer  to  these  questions  is  contained  in 
our  text.     We  are  strangers  a7id  sojourners  upon 


272  THE     INNER    LIFE 

earth ;  we  have  here  no  continuing  city,  but  we 
seek  one  to  come. 

Life  is  often  compared  to  a  journey  and  men  to 
pilgrims.  The  points  of  resemblance  are  many,  but 
I  intend  alluding  only  to  a  few  of  the  most  striking. 

I.  A  pilgrim  is  one  who  travels  from  place  to 
2^lace ;  having  a  certain  point  at  the  end  of  his 
journey  in  view,  he  does  not  stop  until  he  reaches 
it.  As  he  travels  along,  he  is  everywhere  a  stranger, 
and  though  he  forms  attachments  and  makes 
acquaintances,  he  must  soon  part  with  them,  and 
leaving  them  behind  make  new  ones.  So  also  the 
scenery  around  him  changes  continually  :  now  he 
enters  countries  that  are  pleasing  and  lovely,  and 
now  such  as  are  sterile  and  barren  ;  now  the  sun, 
favorable  to  his  journey,  shines  upon  him,  now 
storms  rage  around  him,  and  the  waters  rise  and 
threaten  to  render  his  way  impassable.  In  all  these 
respects,  human  life  is  like  a  pilgrimage,  and  we  are 
like  pilgrims. 

Like  the  traveller,  we  are  surrounded  by  ever 
new  and  changing  scenes.  Of  all  the  relations  of 
life,  there  is  none  more  important,  more  dear  and 
valuable,  than  that  under  which  we  enter  this 
w^orld.  It  is  the  first  of  all  which  becomes  known 
to  us  ;  and  is  the  centre  from  which  we  enter  all 
other  relations.  In  it  the  sense  of  right  and  the 
love  of  truth  are  cultivated.     What  the  particular 


A    PILGRIMAGE.  273 

and  appropriate  soil  is  for  the  roots  of  the  plant, 
the  family  is  for  man.  However  the  activity  of  a 
man  may  grow  in  extent,  he  will  always  look  back 
with  intense  delight  upon  father  and  mother,  and 
brother  and  sister.  But  we  cannot  remain  forever 
in  the  family  which  gave  us  birth.  We  must  part 
with  it,  and  sunder  the  most  tender  and  most  sacred 
relations ;  we  must  give  up  the  pleasures  of  daily 
intercourse ;  we  must  leave  our  earliest  home,  whose 
hearthstone  has  become  too  narrow  to  accommodate 
all,  and  enter  the  wide  and  uncertain  world,  there 
to  work  and  toil  and  follow  our  calling. 

But  the  scenes  of  the  world  also  change.  One 
generation  comes,  and  another  passes  away ;  while 
the  one  blooms,  the  other  fades.  The  human  race 
is  like  a  tree,  that  bears  blossoms  and  fruits  in 
every  stage  of  perfection  during  the  same  season. 
Some  are  born  and  grow  up  before  our  eyes  in  all 
the  vigor  of  health,  others  retire  and  are  seen  no 
more.  As  the  leaves  fall  in  autumn,  and  new  ones 
appear  in  the  spring,  so  men  come  and  go.  And,  as 
they  come  and  go,  their  wants,  their  views,  their 
desires,  their  undertakings  change.  Every  one,  in 
accordance  with  the  measure  of  strength  granted 
him,  strives,  by  his  will  and  works,  to  leave  a  trace 
of  his  existence  behind  him ;  but  a  few  years  are 
sufficient  to  destroy  the  endeavors  of  a  whole  life- 
time. Nor  is  one  day  like  another ;  but  as  on  a 
tree  not  two  leaves  may  be  found  which  are  exactly 
alike,  so  one  day  differs  from  another  day.     The 


274  THE     INNER    LIFE 

one  offers  us  a  peaceful,  cerulean  sky,  the  other  is 
cloudy  and  dark ;  the  one  brings  us  soft  and  mild 
breezes,  the  other  storms  and  chilling  winds ;  the 
one  is  a  day  of  joy,  the  other  a  day  of  grief;  the 
one  is  marked  by  evil  deeds,  the  other  by  good  deeds. 
Thus  surrounded  by  constant  changes,  we  are 
like  strangers,  who,  though  they  make  friends,  can- 
not retain  them  long.  Whoever  has  reached  middle 
life  will  readily  acknowledge  this.  Ask  the  man 
of  forty,  where  the  friends  of  his  youth,  his  parents, 
his  teachers  are.  They  were  near  and  dear  to 
him ;  to  them  he  was  closely  united  ;  their  counsel 
he  desired ;  to  their  bosoms  he  confided  his  griefs 
and  his  joys.  Ask  him  where  they  are,  and  he 
will  answer  you,  that  they  are  gone ;  that  they 
no  longer  enjoy  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  no 
longer  walk  among  the  living.  Many  a  spring 
the  grass  has  already  grown  on  their  graves,  and 
many  a  winter  has  made  it  wither.  And  if  you 
turn  to  one  still  older  and  ask  him,  whether  he 
feels  as  though  he  were  walking  among  friends  and 
acquaintances,  he  will  tell  you  that  he  feels  soli- 
tary ;  that  those  who  now  surround  him,  understand 
him  no  longer,  and  that  he  cannot  enter  into  their 
views  and  pleasures.  Where  are  those,  Goethe 
asked,  in  his  old  age,  who  listened  to  the  songs  of 
my  3^outh  ?  who  understood  me  when  I  spoke,  and 
were  delighted  when  I  sung?  They  are  gone,  and 
I  am  left,  ununderstood,  a  stranger  to  the  multi- 
tude, forsaken  and  alone.    I  sing  my  songs  to  those 


A    PILGRIMAGE.  275 

who  do  no  longer  desire  them,  and  even  their 
applause  makes  me  sad. 

Yet,  why  should  I  turn  your  eyes  upon  persons 
and  things  at  a  distance?  That  we  are  pilgrims  on 
earth  and  strangers,  that  all  around  us  constantly 
changes,  may  be  proved  by  a  single  glance  at  our 
own  little  circle.  Consider  how  much  has  changed 
even  within  these  walls  during  a  single  year.  Some 
of  those  who  were  with  us  at  the  beginning  of  this 
year,  have  parted  with  us ;  and  others,  young  as 
yourselves,  and  full  of  bright  hopes,  have  left  this 
world  to  go  before  us  to  the  land,  whither  all  of 
us,  sooner  or  later,  must  follow.  Their  memory  is 
still  fresh  in  our  minds,  and  many  a  tear  has  been 
shed  as  a  due  tribute;  but  how  soon  their  names 
will  be  forgotten,  and  we  shall  speak  of  them  as 
the  sojourner  speaks  of  cities  and  countries  through 
which  he  once  passed.  Brought  together  here  by 
the  same  purpose,  and  full  of  youthful  warmth,  you 
form  attachments  and  expect  to  walk  together  on 
the  journey  of  life, — but  who  could  tell  us,  which 
of  you  w^ill  next  follow  to  that  bourne  from  which 
no  traveller  returns,  or  whose  lot  it  shall  be  to 
travel  on  till  all  his  companions  have  dropped  from 
his  side  ? 

Our  own  little  circle  is  the  picture  of  the  large 
one  which  we  call  the  world.  As  there,  some  are 
born  and  others  die,  so  here,  the  older  members  go, 
and  new  ones  come ;  the  scenery  within  these  walls 
changes  without  intermission. 


276  THE     INNER     LIFE 

II.  But  these  changes  do  not  merely  affect  things 
around  us ;  ive  ourselves  are  constantly  subject  to  them. 
As  the  pilgrim  daily  changes  his  views  concerning 
countries,  customs  and  manners,  and  increases  his 
knowledge,  so  also  our  views,  opinions  and  judg- 
ments are  undergoing  constant  changes ;  many  of 
us  can  already  look  back  with  astonishment  upon 
our  former  notions.  Daily  we  acquire  more  know- 
ledge ;  daily  we  are  endeavoring  to  gain  what  may 
be  useful :  thus  our  faculties  are  exercised  and 
strengthened.  Our  character  is  also  affected  by 
time,  the  source  of  all  changes  ;  if  it  be  not  for  the 
better,  it  must  be  for  the  worse.  But  in  no  part  of 
our  nature  do  we  experience  these  changes  more 
sensibly  than  in  our  bodies.  We  are  like  a  tree 
that,  while  young  and  vigorous,  sends  forth  new 
leaves  and  new  twigs  every  spring,  in  the  place  of 
old  ones;  but  with  each  renewal  of  its  branches, 
it  loses  a  part  of  its  vigor,  until  at  length  it  becomes 
weak,  and  sajDless,  and  old ;  losing  branch  after 
branch,  it  finally  withers  and  dies.  No  one  can 
say  at  the  end  of  a  year,  that  he  has  not  paid  the 
debt  he  owes  to  time. 

This  is  so  true,  that  every  change  which  we  ex- 
perience, though  connected  with  some  gain,  is 
nevertheless  inseparable  from  some  loss.  The  boy 
looks  forward  with  longing  to  the  years  of  youth ; 
he  would  like  to  be  full-grown  and  his  own  master. 
He  approaches  the  long-desired  period  of  life ;  he 
gams  what  he   anticipated,  but  loses  forever  the 


A    PILGRIMAGE,  277 

innocent  joyousness  of  his  childhood,  when  but  a 
few  thoughts  could  agitate  his  breast,  and  the  few 
wishes  of  his  heart  were  easily  satisfied.  The  child 
has  grown  up  and  become  a  youth ;  and  if  before, 
his  senses  opened  but  a  small  part  of  this  world  to 
his  desires,  now  a  glowing  imagination  and  a  bold 
judgment  unfolds  an  infinitude  before  the  eye  ot 
the  young  man. 

Now  presentiments  of  future  victories  and  achieve- 
ments, of  future  changes  and  reforms  to  be  produced 
by  a  rising  generation,  float  in  an  excited  imagi- 
nation, and  the  youth  longs  with  impatience  for  the 
years  of  manhood.  He  enters  it ;  but  the  ideals  of 
his  imagination  suddenly  assume  the  shape  of  dry 
reality ; — to  effect  anything  he  has  to  concentrate 
his  strength  upon  a  single  purpose,  upon  the  par- 
ticular sphere  in  which  he  is  called  to  labor,  and  of 
all  the  dreams  of  his  youth  not  one  can  be  realized, 
for  nothing  but  labor  and  care  await  him.  Some- 
thing has  been  gained,  but  much  too  has  been  lost. 
Now  he  toils  and  labors  to  silence  the  cares  of  the 
world,  but  before  he  is  aware  of  it,  he  has  arrived 
at  the  threshold  of  old  age — of  the  days  of  which 
he  must  say:  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them.  Maturity 
of  judgment  and  ripeness  of  experience  he  may 
have  gained,  but  vigor  of  mind  and  the  desire  to 
apply  them  to  life  are  gone.  He  looks  back  upon 
the  course  of  his  life — upon  the  temptations  and 
stormy  passions  of  youth — upon  the  errors  of  his 
manhood,  and  appears  to  himself  like  the  sailor,  who 

24 


278  THE    INNER    LIFE 

commenced  his  voyage  with  many  ships  having  all 
their  sails  set,  but  is  glad  if  he  is  permitted  to  reach 
the  haven  of  security  in  a  single  boat. 

III.  This  remark  may  serve  to  form  the  transition 
to  a  consideration  on  the  end  of  our  journey.  A 
faithful  and  conscientious  pilgrim  will  not  suffer 
himself  to  be  detained,  either  by  the  beauty  of  the 
country  through  which  he  passes  or  by  the  hospi- 
tality with  which  he  is  entertained,  but  he  will 
continue  on  his  way  till  he  shall  enter  the  place  of 
his  destination,  in  which  alone  he  can  feel  happy 
and  contented. 

And  so  it  is  with  us  on  the  journey  of  life.     As 
the  changes  around  us  and  in  us  make  us  feel  that 
we  are  strangers  on  earth,  so  they  excite  in  us  a 
desire  for  that  which  is  permanent,  and  this  desire 
aofain  will  render  us  dissatisfied  with   all  that  is 
below  the  sun.     And  what  is  there  on  earth,  that 
could  satisfy  the  soul  entirely  ?     To  be  a  man,  to 
have  powers  which  are  limited  and  easily  exhausted, 
to  meet  with  impediments  on  every  side  when  we 
wish  to  apply  those  powers,  and  yet  not  to  feel  that 
the  soul  is  chained  and  cramped,  would  be  a  contra- 
diction.    All  our  strength  is  connected  with  weak- 
ness, every  truth  with  error,  every  virtue  with  vice, 
every  joy  with  grief,  every  hope  with  fear.     Genius 
and  talents  and  natural  gifts  may  produce  blossoms, 
but  they  bear  no  fruit ;  the  learning  and  wisdom  of 
this  world  may  seek  much,  but  will  find  little; 
pleasures  and  sensual  luxuries  may  entertain  us  for 


A     PILGRIMAXfE.  279 

a  while,  but  tliej  cannot  give  us  permanent  enjoy- 
ment ;  riches,  rank,  and  honor  may  promise  a  great 
deal  to  our  vain  imaginations,  but  they  will  deceive 
and  disappoint  us. 

You  are  yet  young,  and  it  may  be  difficult  for  me 
to  persuade  you  that  all  which  man  desires,  short 
of  eternity,  is  vain  and  transitory.  Let  me  give  you, 
therefore,  the  experience  of  those  who,  full  of  wis- 
dom and  laden  with  the  honors  of  this  world,  have 
expressed  themselves  concerning  the  happiness  of 
this  life  in  terms  most  discouraging  to  the  worldling. 
It  is  well  known  that  the  Greeks,  whose  prospects 
of  an  immortality  of  the  soul  were  dark  and  uncer- 
tain, could  not  see  anything  in  this  world  worthy 
of  their  pains  and  troubles.  Their  poets  sung  :  the 
worst  of  all  that  ever  happens  a  man  is  to  be  born ; 
but  after  he  is  once  born,  the  best  thing  that  can 
befall  him  is  to  die  and  return  whence  he  came. 
These  notes  of  sorrow  run  through  their  most  cheer- 
ful poetry,  and  we  frequently  meet  with  them  where 
we  should  least  expect  them. 

Yet  even  men  of  modern  times  have  uttered 
similar  words.  Franklin,  the  distinguished  philo- 
sopher, expresses  himself  thus  :  "  If  I  were  permitted 
to  live  my  life  over  again,  I  should  decline  the  task, 
unless  I  should  be  permitted  to  publish  a  revised 
and  corrected  edition."  Kant,  whose  heroic  mind, 
like  that  of  Tantalus  of  old,  had  attempted  to  seize 
heaven,  exclaimed  in  his  old  age  :  "  No  prudent  man 
would  ever  desire  to  live  his  life  the  second  time." 


280  THE     INNER     LIFE 

But  most  remarkable  of  all  is  a  confession  of  Goethe. 
He,  as  it  is  known  to  all  who  are  acquainted  with 
his  life,  was  considered  the  child  of  fortune,  the 
favorite  of  his  nation,  the  king  of  modern  poets. 
Nature  had  lavished  all  her  favors  upon  him.  He 
was  distinguished  for  his  beauty,  for  his  strong  con- 
stitution, and  for  the  always  happy  and  cheerful 
disposition  of  his  mind.  His  wealth  enabled  him 
to  spend  more  than  $60,000  on  his  private  library 
and  picture  gallery  ;  his  learning  in  all  the  branches 
of  human  knowledge  was  unparalleled;  the  honor 
bestow^ed  upon  him  by  emperors  and  kings  and  all 
the  living  artists  and  literary  men  was  unbounded. 
And  yet  a  few  years  before  his  death,  we  hear  him 
make  the  following  highly  remarkable  confession: 

"  They  have  called  me  a  child  of  fortune,  neither 
will  I  complain,  nor  find  fault  with  the  events  of 
my  life.  But,  on  the  whole,  it  has  been  nothing 
but  labor  and  trouble,  and  I  can  safely  say,  that 
in  my  seventy-five  years,  there  have  not  been  four 
weeks  of  unmingled  pleasure." 

How  instructive  to  all  of  us  is  this  confession, 
that  seventy-five  years  of  the  life  of  the  most  pros- 
perous man  did  not  produce  as  much  as  four  weeks 
of  pure  pleasure  ! 

When  we  consider  that  everything  around  us 
is  transitory  and  vain,  that  we  are  ourselves  sub- 
ject to  constant  changes,  and  that  w^e  can  never 
find  on  earth  what  we  seek,  we  cannot  but  feel 
that  we  are  strangers  and  sojourners.     But  every 


A    PILGRIMAGE.  281 

traveller  expects  a  resting-place,  and  we  expect 
ours  also.  Though  strangers  on  earth,  we  have  a 
home  beyond  the  skies ;  towards  that  home  we  are 
travelling,  and  in  it  we  expect  to  find  peace  and 
rest.  The  grave,  it  is  true,  yawns  at  the  end  of 
our  journey,  and  all  that  lives  must  sink  into  it, 
must  die  and  moulder ;  but  the  grave  is  only  the 
narrow  gate  which  leads  to  heaven,  and  heaven  is 
the  true  home  of  our  souls.  Without  it,  our  exis- 
tence would  be  incomplete ;  our  most  noble  desires 
would  remain  unsatisfied,  and  the  faculties  of  our 
souls  undeveloped.  The  deeper  our  -conviction  is, 
that  we  are  strangers  on  earth  and  have  no  con- 
tinuing city  here,  the  more  unreservedly  will  we 
place  all  our  hopes  in  a  world  to  come.  And  in 
this,  religion  confirms  us ;  for  while  nature  teaches 
us  not  to  put  our  confidence  in  anything  mortal, 
religion  informs  us  that  the  word  of  God  will  abide 
forever,  and  that  the  day  is  awaiting  all  men,  when 
they  will  be  called  to  enter  into  eternity  and 
time  will  be  no  more — when  their  lot  once  ap- 
pointed to  them  will  be  without  the  least  change — 
when  their  joys  or  sufferings  will  be  the  same  for- 
ever. But  though  eternity  awaits  all  men,  all  will 
not  enter  into  the  city  of  God ;  for  it  is  a  mighty 
city — a  holy  city — and  none  will  be  admitted  except 
those  who  are  holy.  The  day  will  come,  when  all 
the  dead,  great  and  small,  shall  appear  before 
the  Lord  ;  when  the  books  will  be  opened,  and 
among  them  the  Book  of  Life,  and  the  dead  shall 

24* 


282  THE     INNER     LIFE 

be  judged  according  to  their  works.  But  death 
and  its  dominion,  darkness,  will  be  cast  into  the 
lake  of  fire,  and  with  it  every  one  whose  name  is 
not  recorded  in  the  Book  of  Life.  Only  after  all 
evil  shall  have  disappeared,  after  the  wicked  and 
unholy  shall  have  been  separated  from  the  fiiithful, 
then  the  Lord  will  wipe  away  all  tears  from  the 
eyes  of  his  people,  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death 
among  them ;  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither 
shall  there  be  any  more  pain.  But  they  shall  be 
before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  Him  day  and 
night  in  His  temple ;  and  He  that  sitteth  on  the 
throne  shall  dwell  among  them.  They  shall 
hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more ;  neither 
shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat.  For 
the  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne, 
shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto  living 
fountains  of  waters. 

The  end  of  our  journey  is  glorious ;  we  shall  ob- 
tain not  a  corruptible,  but  an  incorruptible  crown. 
Heaven  invites  us  to  come  and  partake  of  its 
glories  ;  yet  there  is  but  one  way  which  leads  to  it. 
We  are  pilgrims,  travelling  to  eternity;  we  have 
no  abiding-place  on  earth ;  we  seek  one  to  come ;  is 
it  not  imprudent  and  unwise  to  continue  on  the 
way,  though  we  cannot  but  know  that  it  will  lead 
us  to  destruction  ?  Or  would  we  not  be  stupid  and 
thoughtless  should  we  never  ask  ourselves,  what  is 
the  aim  and  end  of  our  journey  ?  and  which  is  the 
way  that  leads  thither  ? 


A     PILGRIMAGE.  283 

This  way,  the  way  to  our  eternal  home,  I  will 
name  to  you,  to-day.  When  travellers,  pursuing 
their  journey,  arrive  at  certain  resting-places,  they 
ascertain  whether  or  not  they  are  on  the  right  way ; 
and  when  travellers  to  eternity  pass  from  one  year 
into  another,  can  they  avoid  reviewing  their  past 
course  of  life,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  or  not 
they  have  been  on  the  way  that  leads  to  Heaven? 
This  inquiry  is  the  more  important,  since  there  is 
an  absolute  certainty  that  but  one  way  leads  to  our 
home — the  end  of  our  pilgrimage — and  that  every 
other  way  leads  to  eternal  ruin. 

Which,  then,  is  the  way,  on  which  alone  we  may 
travel  safely  towards  eternity  ?  It  is  prepared  for 
us  already ;  we  need  not  seek  long  for  it.  Christ, 
our  Saviour,  has  said :  /  am  the  icay.  But  how 
shall  we  enter  this  way  ?  I  answer,  by  repentance 
and  faith.  But  we  cannot  repent,  nor  believe,  as 
long  as  we  adhere  to  sin,  as  long  as  sin  reigns  in 
our  inclinations,  as  long  as  we  love  this  world  as 
though  it  were  our  true  home.  Let  us,  therefore, 
be  sober,  and  circumspect,  and  decided ;  let  us 
embrace  the  Saviour,  and,  by  the  assistance  of  His 
Spirit,  eradicate  sin  from  our  hearts ;  let  us  dismiss 
all  trifles,  and  whatever  has  no  bearing  upon  our 
sanctification ;  let  us  avoid  whatever  may  entice 
our  senses — whatever  may  mislead  our  hearts — 
whatever  may  keep  our  thoughts  in  the  dust;  and 
whatever  may  bribe  our  judgment,  entangle  our  will, 
and  darken  our  views  of  Heaven. 


284  THE    INNER     LIFE 

But,  above  all,  do  not  lose  a  single  moment  in 
entering  on  this  way,  for  though  it  is  prepared 
already,  it  is  nevertheless  long.  Easy  as  it  may  be 
to  form  resolutions,  or  to  determine  henceforth  to 
avoid  pernicious  habits,  or  to  flee  bad  company,  or 
to  war  against  some  evil  desire,  or  to  exercise  our- 
selves in  resigning  all  selfishness ;  it  will  nevertheless 
require  time  to  execute  such  resolutions.  It  is  not 
the  work  of  a  moment  to  establish  ourselves  in  our 
convictions,  to  become  steadfast  in  our  better  views, 
to  purify  our  corrupt  inclinations,  and  to  remain 
faithful  to  our  resolutions.  The  way  which  leads 
to  Heaven  is  long;  for  long  is  the  way  of  our  sanc- 
tification,  long  the  way  which  leads  to  a  complete 
victory  over  sin,  long  the  way  of  establishing  a  per- 
fect harmony  in  ourselves  between  the  law  of  our 
members  and  conscience,  long  the  way  of  knowing 
Christ,  His  love  and  mercy,  fully. 

When  we  compare  the  duration  of  life  with  the 
length  of  this  way,  life  will  appear  too  short.  It  is 
true,  that  when  we  commence  a  year,  and  look  for- 
ward to  its  many  weeks  and  days  and  hours,  it 
seems  to  be  long,  especially  if  it  interpose  between 
a  desire  and  the  possession  of  its  object.  But  look- 
ing back  upon  the  past  year,  the  length  of  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  days  dwindles  away  and 
appears  to  be  extremely  short.  The  poet  seems  to 
us  to  see  the  truth  when  he  says,  the  hour  is  long, 
but  the  day  is  short.  Life  is  of  short  duration,  but 
the  work  to  be  done  in  it  of  eternal  moment.     Em- 


A    PILGRIMAGE.  285 

brace,  therefore,  the  Saviour  without  delay,  and  use 
every  moment  of  the  time  which  the  Lord  in  His 
infinite  mercy  grants  you.  Be  warned,  too,  by  the 
lot  of  those  who  have  gone  before  us  to  their  eternal 
home.  The  year  which  is  now  about  to  close,  they 
commenced  with  us,  and  were  cheerful  and  well  as 
we  are  ourselves ;  but  they  did  not  live  to  see  its 
end.  Be  warned  by  your  own  frailty ;  for  some  of 
you  have  been  near  the  grave,  but  the  Lord  in  His 
mercy  restored  you  again  to  life.  And  why  does 
the  Lord,  on  whose  will  all  life  depends,  permit  us 
to  pass  from  the  old  to  the  new  year  ?  Certainly 
not  that  we  may  spend  our  time  in  seeking  the 
pleasures  of  this  world,  and  in  gratifying  our  sen- 
sual appetites;  but  that  we  may  prepare  ourselves 
to  meet  our  Judge.  Come,  therefore,  at  once  to  the 
conclusion,  that  it  will  be  well  for  you  to  use  your 
time,  and  all  that  time  may  bring,  every  word  of 
instruction,  every  hint,  every  impulse,  to  consider 
your  ways  and  turn  unto  the  testimonies  of  the 
Lord.  Whether  the  coming  year  will  bring  you  joy 
or  grief,  happiness  or  misery,  depends  upon  the 
Lord ;  but  whether  or  not  you  will  use  whatever  it 
may  bring  you  for  your  eternal  salvation,  depends 
on  yourselves. 

IV.  But,  in  conclusion,  careful  travellers  ivill  Jooh 
for  waymarhs  on  their  journey,  in  order  to  see 
whether  they  are  moving  in  the  right  direction. 
Pilgrims  for  eternity  should  also  look  for  waymarks. 


286  THE     INNER     LIFE 

There  are  many,  but  I  will  point  out  only  three  to- 
day. 

The^rs^  of  these  waymarks,  is  ^judgment  that  ap- 
plies the  Spirit  of  Christ  as  the  only  true  measure  to 
all  on  earth  and  to  ourselves.  Man  judges,  whenever 
he  thinks;  and  because  he  alone  can  judge,  he  was 
said,  by  an  ancient  philosopher,  to  be  the  measure 
of  all  things  on  earth.  When  we  judge,  we  conclude 
the  individual  under  its  generality,  and  measure 
the  former  by  the  latter.  Judging,  therefore,  we 
place  upon  everything  its  proper  value,  and  we 
ascertain  this  value  by  measuring  the  smaller  by 
the  greater.  But  as  long  as  man  considers  himself 
the  true  measure  of  all  things,  as  long  as  he  deter- 
mines the  value  of  all  around  him  by  its  tendency 
to  advance  his  sensual  or  intellectual  benefit,  his 
judgment  must  be  erroneous.  The  only  true 
measure,  by  which  the  proper  place  and  value  of 
everything  may  be  determined,  is  Christ ;  in  pro- 
portion as  anything  leads  to  Him,  does  its  value 
increase ;  and  in  proportion  as  it  is  remote  from 
Him,  must  its  value  decrease.  If  we  learn  much, 
but  know  nothing  of  Christ ;  if  we  do  much,  but  do 
nothing  in  reference  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ ;  if  we 
enjoy  many  things,  but  derive  none  of  our  pleasures 
from  communion  with  Christ;  if  we  suffer  much, 
but  not  for  the  sake  of  Christ, — all  will  be  vain ;  for 
Christ  must  be  the  measure,  according,  to  which  we 
estimate  the  value  of  all  we  do,  enjoy,  and  suffer. 

Ask  yourselves  now,  what  guides  you  in  your 


A    PILGRIMAGE.  287 

estimate  of  the  state  of  the  things  around  us? 
Do  you  judge  of  them  according  to  the  views  of 
the  world,  or  do  you  view  them  in  the  Spirit  of  the 
Saviour.  Answer  this  question  faithfully,  and  you 
will  know  whether  you  are  on  the  right  way  to  the 
city  of  God. 

The  second  waymark  is  a  loill,  all  of  whose  reso- 
lutions and  actions  proceed  from  the  Spirit  of  God, 
and  have  a  tendency  to  advance  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven. When  in  all  our  resolutions  we  keep  our 
heavenly  calling  in  view,  and  constantly  strive 
after  holiness ;  when  we  determine  daily  to  grow 
in  faith,  and  resolutely  to  root  out  all  sin  from  our 
hearts ;  when  we  never  lose  sight  of  our  commu- 
nion with  God,  and  always  act  as  it  becomes 
beings  who  are  called  to  enter  a  holy  city,  in  which 
there  is  no  temple  made  with  hands,  but  in  which 
God  Himself  is  the  temple  :  then  we  may  believe 
ourselves  to  be  on  the  right  way  to  Heaven. 

The  third  waymark,  finally,  is  a  heart,  all  of 
whose  desires  and  wishes  are  pure,  and  proceed 
from  the  Spirit  of  Christ  that  lives  and  dwells  in 
them.  Man  has  wishes  as  long  as  he  lives  ;  but 
when  his  wishes  are  not  directed  upon  his  heavenly 
home,  when  they  all  cluster  around  the  pleasures  of 
this  world,  or  rest  on  objects  of  avarice  or  ambition 
or  voluptuousness,  it  is  certain  that  he  is  in  the 
wrong  way.  Whatever  wishes  we  may  have,  either 
for  ourselves,  or  for  our  friends,  or  for  our  country, 
or  for  the  whole  human  race,  if  the  Spirit  of  Christ 


288       THE    INNER    LIFE    A    PILGRIMAGE. 

does  not  live  and   breathe  in  these  wishes,  they 
will  be  earthly,  vain,  and  remain  unblessed. 

To  know  now  whether  you  are  in  the  right  way, 
answer  faithfully  these  three  questions  : 

1.  What  is  the  measure  by  which  I  estimate  the 
things  of  the  world,  and  my  own  moral  character  ? 

2.  What  is  the  tendency  of  all  my  resolutions 
and  actions  ?  are  they  limited  to  this  world,  or  do 
they  aim  at  something  higher  ? 

3.  What  is  the  soul  of  my  desires  and  wishes  ? 
Is  it  earth  or  heaven  ?  the  world  or  Christ  ? 

May  the  Lord  grant  that  the  year  we  are  about 
to  commence,  may  not  pass  by  without  renewing 
the  hearts  of  the  careless  among  us. 


THE  FINAL  CONFLICT  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE.* 

Psalm  103  :  15,  16. 

"As  for  man,  his  days  are  as  grass ;  as  a  flower  of  the  field,  so  he 
flourisheth.  For  the  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it  is  gone;  and  the  pUice 
thereof  shall  know  it  no  more." 

The  life  of  man  has  been  divided  by  some  into 
ten,  by  others  into  seven  periods ;  but  it  no  doubt 
exhibits  four^  which  are  no  less  distinct  and  well 
marked  than  the  four  regions  of  the  world,  or  the 
four  seasons  of  the  year.  It  seems  to  be  a  general 
law,  that  whatever  lives  must  pass  through  these 
four  stages  of  existence,  one  of  which  is  that  of 
bloom  and    vigor.     The  plant   has  its  childhood: 

*  Occasioned  by  the  death  of  Daniel  Miller,  a  member  of  the 
second  graduating  class,  of  Marshall  College,  1838,  and  for  one 
year  a  student  of  the  Theological  Seminary,  at  Mercersburg,  Penn- 
sylvania, who  repaired  to  Princeton  to  prosecute  his  theological  stu- 
dies ;  but  taken  ill  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  was  removed  to 
the  house  of  his  parents  residing  near  Shepherdstown,  Virginia, 
where  he  died  on  the  30th  of  November,  1839,  aged  twenty-six 
years, — a  young  man  of  very  amiable  disposition,  marked  consis- 
tency of  Christian  character,  and  earnest  devotion  to  the  Church 
of  Christ;  the  unexpected  announcement  of  whose  death  cast  a 
deep  gloom  over  the  professors  and  students,  with  whom  he  had 
for  five  years  been  so  intimately  connected. — Ed. 

25 


290  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

the  first  leaves  which  grow  near  the  soil  and  the 
roots,  are  imperfectly  formed;  they  are  large  and 
full  of  a  rude  and  unrefined  juice;  but,  as  these 
leaves  grow  higher  and  are  further  removed  from  the 
soil,  as  they  are  more  exposed  to  the  air  and  light, 
the  juice  becomes  more  refined,  the  color  more 
fresh  and  tender,  the  forms  more  perfect,  until 
finally,  on  the  top  of  the  plant  many  delicate 
leaves  cluster  around  one  centre  and  form  the 
bud,  from  which  the  flower  bursts  upon  us  in  all  its 
beauty.  This  point  of  existence  is  the  youth  of 
the  plant;  but  it  must  be  observed  that  the  flower 
itself  reaches  a  degree  of  perfection,  beyond  which 
it  is  impossible  for  it  to  go,  and  at  which  its  fra- 
grance and  the  delicacy  of  its  colors  become  less  and 
less,  until  they  finally  disappear:  then  the  plant 
spends  all  the  power  which  is  left  in  ripening  the 
fruit,  whose  weight  soon  bends  the  tender  twig  to 
the  earth,  and  makes  it  crumble  into  dust. 

So  it  is  with  the  different  stages  of  human  life. 
In  childhood,  our  sensations  and  perceptions  are 
indistinct  and  uncultivated;  we  spend  no  less  than 
three  years,  unconscious  of  ourselves,  in  learning 
to  walk  and  speak.  As  we  grow,  our  perceptions 
become  more  acute ;  we  learn  to  distinguish  accu- 
rately, and  fancy,  imagination  and  memory  begin  to 
perform  their  ofiices,  when  spring  dwells  on  our 
cheeks,  and  the  eye  sparkles  with  fire.  But  there 
is  no  pause  in  that  which  lives  and  grows;  while 
we  yet  dream  of  the  future  and  of  the  plans  which 


THE    INNER     LIFE.  291 

we  desire  to  execute,  the  age  of  maturity  steals 
imperceptibly  upon  us,  and  though  for  a  short 
time  a  ripe  judgment,  cool  reflection  and  calm 
deliberation  prevail,  our  heads  will  soon  hang 
down  and  indicate  our  decay. 

Of  all  the  periods  of  life,  that  of  youth  is  con- 
sidered most  enviable.  All  the  mental  and  phy- 
sical powers  are  in  their  bloom;  the  muscles  swell 
softly  into  each  other ;  the  nerves  are  strong  and 
vigorous;  the  imagination  dives  into  the  future, 
and,  free  from  cares,  sees  itself  mingling  with  those 
who  devote  their  talents  and  energies  to  the  public 
welfare.  And  yet  this  season  passes  by  most 
quickly  of  all,  and  frequently  unnoticed  by  our- 
selves. Every  step  we  take  towards  it,  increases 
our  vigor;  but  every  step  beyond  it,  leads  to 
infirmity. 

When  we  consider,  therefore,  that  the  period  of 
youth  is  short,  that  it  passes  by  like  a  dream,  that 
when  once  gone  it  cannot  be  recalled,  must  we  not 
feel  sad,  that  the  most  beautiful  in  life  shows  itself 
only  to  disappear  so  quickly — exhibits  its  charms 
only  to  attract  us,  and  leave  us  to  bewail  its  brevity? 
Yet  this  is  not  all.  Dangers  beset  our  youth  on 
every  side,  as  thorns  the  cup  of  a  beautiful  flower. 
The  fulness  of  physical  power  is  favorable  to  many 
diseases ;  a  vigorous  imagination  easily  bribes  the 
judgment,  yields  to  passion,  and  leads  to  perverted 
views,  which  must  in  the  course  of  time  destroy 
the  source  of  cheerfulness.     Many  fall  victims  to  a 


292  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

nature,  exhausted  in  following  the  allurements  of 
vice ;  before  we  can  warn  and  admonish  them,  they 
have  gone  where  our  voice  is  no  longer  heard.  Those 
of  us  who  have  passed  the  meridian  of  life,  when 
looking  back  and  seeking  those  who  were  born  with 
us,  must  feel  like  the  man  who,  late  in  the  fall,  looks 
around  and  sees  but  here  and  there  a  flower  which 
reminds  him  of  the  spring  of  the  year.  Joy  and 
grief,  mourning  and  cheerfulness,  must  mingle  in 
our  bosoms.  Besides,  many  who,  in  their  youth,  pro- 
mised fairly,  and  were  the  hope  of  parents,  the  pride 
of  teachers,  the  ornaments  of  society,  are  laid  low  in 
death,  when  they  seemed  strongest.  Very  few  of  all 
who  are  born,  it  may  be  said  with  truth,  reach  the 
springtime  of  life ;  fewer  still  are  permitted  to  pass 
beyond  it.  Such  thoughts  are  certainly  sad  and 
mournful,  and  deserve  to  engage  our  attention. 

I.  Let  us  first  briefly  consider  the  poicer  of  death 
over  youth. 

This  power,  in  the  first  place,  is  irresistible.  We 
can  exercise  some  power  of  will  with  regard  to 
whatever  else  on  earth  may  meet  us ;  we  may  de- 
vise plans  by  which  to  avoid  an  evil,  or  to  ame- 
liorate our  condition  ;  or  we  may  form  resolutions 
to  change  or  improve  our  whole  manner  of  life. 
But  death  is  wholly  independent  of  our  will.  No 
power  on  earth  can  retard  its  progress,  or  restore 
the  disordered  system,  when  once  it  is  appointed  to 
death.     It  is  true,   that  an  eternity  rests  in  the 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  293 

bosom  of  man — that  liis  mental  powers  require  a 
whole  life  and  more  for  their  complete  development ; 
and  3^et  there  is  nothing  more  frail,  nothing  more 
like  a  dream,  than  the  existence  of  the  noblest 
being  in  nature.  He  has  the  power  to  will  what- 
ever he  chooses,  and  he  has  the  power  to  execute 
his  will,  if  it  be  rational  and  accommodate  itself  to 
circumstances;  he  has  the  power  to  dispose  of  every- 
thing which  is  his,  and  of  all  nature  around  him ; 
but  as  regards  himself,  his  entrance  into  the  world 
and  his  exit  from  it,  he  is  not  consulted,  and  his 
will  is  powerless.  He  is  called  into  life  by  a 
power  that  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  obtain  the 
consent  of  his  will;  he  must  appear  at  its  summons ; 
he  must  appear  in  a  certain  family  and  in  a  certain 
place  ;  neither  the  time,  nor  the  age,  nor  the  nation 
in  which  he  is  born,  is  made  dependent  on  his 
choice.  Thus,  man  must  also  leave  this  world, 
whether  he  is  ready  to  do  so  or  not.  His  hour  of 
departure  is  appointed  before  the  hour  of  his  birth, 
but  he  knows  it  not;  the  circumstances  under  which 
an  individual  will  have  to  leave  this  world — 
whether  in  affluence  or  poverty,  whether  richly 
laden  with  honors  or  stripped  of  all  favor, — all  are 
determined  upon,  but  he  is  ignorant  of  them.  The 
disease  which  is  to  undermine  his  health  may  al- 
ready have  seized  his  vitals  and  it  may  go  on  in  its 
slow  but  certain  way,  while  he  thinks  himself  well 
and  strong;  or  his  death  may  be  caused  by  an 
accident    which,  though  it  could  not  have  been 

25* 


294  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

foreseen,  is  nevertheless   made  the  instrument  to 
execute  the  will  of  God. 

Who  that  considers  all  this  would  be  willing  to 
say,  that  he  is  master  of  his  own  life  ?  or  that  he 
who,  left  to  the  resources  of  reason,  neither  knows 
whence  he  came  nor  whither  he  goes,  can  resist  the 
power  of  death  when  it  takes  hold  of  him  ?  It  is 
but  too  certain  that  we  must  follow  death  when  it 
beckons ;  that  we  do  not  know  the  hour  nor  the  day 
of  its  approach;  that  neither  youth  nor  strength, 
neither  the  tears  of  parents  nor  of  friends,  neither 
the  petitions  of  pious  acquaintances  nor  our  own 
wishes  and  most  ardent  longing  for  a  continuance 
of  life,  can  rescue  us  from  its  power.  We  may  have 
laid  plans  for  future  usefulness ;  we  may  have  com- 
menced a  work  which  demands  our  continued  care 
and  protection ;  but  nothing  can  augment  the  dimi- 
nished pulsation  of  the  heart,  or  prevent  the  grow- 
ing coldness  of  the  limbs,  the  irregularity  of  breath- 
ing, and  the  final  struggle  of  death. 

The  power  of  death  over  youth,  in  the  second 
place,  is  great  and  extensive.  According  to  the  best 
calculations,  it  is  fully  ascertained,  that  of  those 
who  are  born  at  any  given  time,  more  than  the 
one-fourth  part  die  within  less  than  three  years, 
and  that  more  than  one-half  of  the  remainder  sink 
into  the  grave  before  they  have  attained  to  their 
twentieth  year.  Those  of  us,  then,  who  have 
arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty,  have  reached  an  age 
which  most  of  the  children  of  men  do  not  attain 


THE     INNER    LIFE.  295 

to.  And  this  great  power  of  death  over  youth  is 
not  owing  to  want  of  care  or  to  inexperience,  for 
all  the  improvements  and  precautions  of  medical 
art  have  not  essentially  diminished  the  mortality 
of  youth. 

The  human  race,  considered  as  a  whole,  may  in 
this  respect  be  compared  to  a  tree  full  of  buds 
and  blossoms.  Many  of  its  buds  do  not  reach  the 
stage  of  bloom ;  and  of  those  which  are  permitted 
to  unfold  themselves,  by  far  the  greater  part  are 
shaken  off  by  storms  and  winds,  and  their  leaves, 
without  having  had  time  to  leave  the  beginning  of 
fruit  upon  the  twigs,  cover  the  ground  all  around, 
like  flakes  of  snow.  And  of  the  blossoms  which 
pass  over  into  young  fruit,  how  little  matures — how 
few  blossoms  produce  perfect  fruit?  For,  though 
the  tree  be  laden  with  young  fruit,  who  of  us  does 
not  know,  that  internal  diseases,  and  external 
storms,  unfavorable  seasons,  venomous  insects,  and 
want  of  power  in  the  tree  to  bear  and  nourish  so 
much,  will  cause  more  than  one-half  to  fall  off? 
So  it  is  with  our  race.  Children  that  have 
scarcely  begun  to  live  in  this  world,  are  already 
recalled.  With  some,  the  hour  of  birth  is  the 
hour  of  death.  Others  remain  for  a  short  time, 
but  depart  again  before  even  the  bloom  of  their 
lives  has  begun.  Others  give  promise  of  long 
life,  and  begin  to  lay  plans  for  the  future ;  but 
they  are  consigned  to  the  grave  before  any  one 
could    have    expected    it.      This   we    experience 


296  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

every  day ;  yet,  while  we  admit  the  possibility  of 
an  early  death  with  regard  to  every  one  else,  we 
feel  reluctant  to  admit  it  with  regard  to  ourselves. 
We  are  all  inclined  to  anticipate  long  life,  yet  who 
of  us,  when  looking  upon  the  beautiful  blossoms 
which  cover  the  branches  and  twigs  of  a  tree,  can 
say,  which  of  them  will  fall  off,  and  which  will  be 
permitted  to  produce  fruit?  The  chances  of  youth 
to  reach  an  advanced  age  are  much  less  than  we 
are,  in  general,  inclined  to  think.  For,  when  of 
every  two,  one  must  die  before  the  twentieth  year, 
it  is  very  possible,  indeed,  that  he  who  least  thinks 
of  it  may  be  that  one.  If  it  be  certain,  that  an 
age  higher  than  twenty  years  classes  us  with 
those  who  enjoy  an  extraordinary  lot,  can  we, 
for  a  moment,  deny  the  great  sway  of  death 
over  youth?  and  can  we  remain  indifferent  to 
its  power?  Can  we  live  as  if  we  could  prepare 
ourselves  for  eternity  at  any  time?  Can  we  be 
thoughtless  and  careless  ?  Can  we  suffer  all  the 
warnings  that  reach  us,  to  pass  by  without  having 
the  least  effect  upon  us  ? 

The  power  of  death,  in  the  third  place,  is  alto- 
gether mysterious.  For  death  does  not  only  seize 
the  young,  but  very  frequently  those  among  them, 
whom  we  look  upon  as  the  future  pillars  of 
society;  whose  disposition  and  character,  whose 
diligence  and  faithfulness,  whose  talents  and  ac- 
quirements  encourage   the  very  highest   expecta- 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  297 

tions  concerning  them.  Their  education  is  the 
object  of  pcaternal  care  and  solicitude;  their  minds 
begin  to  exhibit  vigor  and  energy;  their  hearts  have 
ah'eady  embraced  the  noble  and  the  good,  nay,  they 
have  devoted  themselves  to  the  service  of  the 
Lord,  and  piety  adorns  them,  and  is,  in  their  sight, 
the  greatest  ornament  of  man's  life.  Living  as 
strangers  on  earth,  they  have  directed  their  eyes 
to  Heaven,  and  desire  only  to  live  for  the  pur- 
pose of  doing  good,  of  benefiting  their  fellow-men, 
of  leading  many  to  the  Saviour.  But  when  they 
approach  the  close  of  preparation  for  public  life; 
when,  on  the  threshold  of  practical  usefulness  and 
Christian  activity,  death  seizes  them,  and  they 
walk  no  longer  among  men;  when  we  follow 
their  remains  to  the  grave,  can  we  discover  any 
reason  why  the  Lord  has  taken  them,  and  left 
others,  who  will  spend  their  lives  in  idleness  and  per- 
haps abuse  Divine  goodness  ?  When  a  work,  laying 
hold  of  eternity,  seems  to  suffer  by  the  early  re- 
moval of  a  man  who  was  particularly  fitted  for  its 
execution,  must  we  not  say  that  the  power  of  death 
is  mysterious  ? 

Nor  can  we  help  acknowledging  that  youth  is 
but  the  period  of  bloom ;  that  their  views  and 
sentiments  are  only  forming,  and  nothing  is,  as  yet, 
perfectly  ripe.  Now,  if  it  is  the  destination  and 
final  end  of  man  to  glorify  God,  this  end  will  cer- 
tainly be  better  effected,  when  all  that  is  in  man 


298  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

has  developed  itself,  than  when  some  of  his  powers 
are  still  in  a  state  of  involution. 

The  mystery  which  hangs  around  the  death  of 
youth  will  strike  us  more  forcibly,  when  we  turn 
our  attention  to  children.  They  frequently  be- 
come the  prey  of  death,  before  they  have  learned 
to  name  their  parents,  to  love  them,  or  to  acknow- 
ledge their  kindness  towards  them.  The  earth  is 
designed  to  furnish  an  opportunity  for  cultivating 
our  reason,  for  developing  and  disciplining  all  the 
faculties  of  mind;  but,  before  they  are  conscious 
of  themselves,  they  are  already  in  the  embraces  of 
death.  The  earth  is  the  planet  on  which  we  are 
to  become  acquainted  with  the  Saviour,  and, 
through  Him,  obtain  access  to  the  throne  of  God, 
and  enjoy  eternal  salvation ;  but  children  are  fre- 
quently taken  from  us,  before  they  can  even  stam- 
mer the  name  of  Christ.  Certainly,  a  power  which 
seizes  so  many  undeveloped  germs,  so  many  un- 
opened buds,  so  many  immature  fruits,  is  a  myste- 
rious power. 

And  this  mystery  cannot  be  diminished  in  the 
least  by  any  arguments  reason,  left  to  itself,  may 
furnish.  It  may  see  a  divine  plan,  a  divine  design 
which  is  to  be  executed  by  man ;  but  when  fre- 
quently the  best  means,  the  purest  characters,  the 
most  devoted  and  zealous  servants  of  the  Lord  are 
taken  away,  reason  cannot  discover  the  cause,  nor 
see  what  benefit  the  work  of  God  on  earth  may 
derive  from  the  removal  of  such  men.    Nor  do  the 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  299 

Scriptures  say  anything  which  is  well  calculated  to 
disperse  this  darkness.  We  know  from  them  that 
God  is  the  Father  over  all — that  all  men  are  destined 
for  eternity  and  for  eternal  life ;  but  they  do  not  say 
a  word  concerning  the  cause  and  object  of  this  great 
mortality  among  youth,  nor  do  they  intimate  that 
opportunities  will  be  afforded  them  in  another  world 
for  the  cultivation  of  those  powers  which  on  earth 
attracted  our  admiration,  though  we  were  only 
permitted  to  see  them  in  the  bud. 

II.  Though  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  darkness 
surrounds  the  graves  of  youth,  ive  may  nevertheless 
find  light  if  ive  examine  the  Scriptures  faithfully. 
And  with  regard  to  children,  I  would,  in  the  first 
place,  repeat  the  words  of  the  Saviour :  "  Suffer 
little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them 
not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  The 
soul  of  a  child  is  the  complete  soul  of  a  man  as  re- 
gards its  capacity  and  powers ;  all  it  needs  is  deve- 
lopment. It  has  the  full  germ  of  an  imperishable 
existence;  it  is  of  divine  origin;  and  its  birth  into 
life  on  earth  is  the  first  stage  of  the  process  by 
which  it  is  to  arrive  at  maturity.  If  the  soul  of  a 
child  is  not  permitted  to  unfold  itself  here,  can  we 
believe  that  it  will  find  no  opportunity  to  unfold 
itself  anywhere  else  ?  God  does  not  suffer  anything 
which  His  hand  has  created  to  perish,  and  will  He 
consign  to  oblivion  that  spark  of  eternal  life  which 
He  has  laid  in  the  breast  of  a  babe  ?     Children  of 


300  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

the  most  promising  talents,  of  the  most  amiable 
and  obedient  disposition,  are  generally  most  sub- 
ject to  the  power  of  death :  is  this  so,  because  the 
heavenly  fire  burning  in  their  souls  consumes  the 
earthly  covering,  or  because  they  have  ripened 
sooner  than  others  for  their  eternal  home?  or  be- 
cause the  Lord  takes  them,  in  order  to  transplant 
them  to  a  place  where  the  process  of  development 
may  be  accelerated  ?  On  earth  all  cultivation  is 
bound  to  the  laws  of  time ;  it  is  slow  and  frequently 
interrupted  by  external  circumstances,  and  even 
exposed  to  dangers.  Perhaps  the  Lord  takes  these 
children,  lest  the  heat  of  the  day  or  the  storms  of 
life  should  strip  them  of  their  loveliness — of  the 
beauty  of  their  souls,  or  lest  malice  should  pervert 
their  understanding,  or  false  doctrines  deceive  their 
souls.  At  all  events,  we  may  feel  assured,  that  the 
soul  which  has  animated  a  body,  though  only  for  a 
short  time — the  soul  which  is  once  set  in  motion, 
will  find  one  mansion  among  the  many  in  our 
Father's  house  which  is  suited  to  itself,  and  that 
the  Saviour,  who  represented  children  as  models 
for  us,  whose  readiness  to  believe  and  to  Jiojye  He 
has  taught  us  to  imitate,  will  certainly  take  care 
of  them. 

As  regards  the  death  of  youth,  I  would  refer 
to  the  case  of  Enoch.  He  walked  with  God  while 
on  earth,  and  God  favored  him.  He  scarcely 
reached  the  third  part  of  his  father's  life ;  because 
God  loved  him.  He  took  him  early,  and  he  was  no 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  301 

longer  seen  among  men.  The  just,  though  they 
die  early,  are  at  rest.  And  let  us  remark  here, 
that  it  is  not  the  number  of  years,  not  the  length 
of  time  we  spend  on  earth,  which  is  valuable 
or  desirable,  but  the  manner  in  which,  and  the 
purpose  for  which,  we  live.  A  man  who  has  lived 
ninety  years  and  has  not  become  acquainted  with 
the  Saviour,  has  not  derived  any  more  benefit  from 
his  age  than  one  who  dies  without  a  Saviour  in  his 
twentieth  year,  whilst  the  youth  who  receives  and 
loves  his  Saviour,  has  gained  more  than  both 
together. 

This,  then,  is  the  first  ray  of  light,  piercing 
through  the  thick  darkness  which  surrounds  the 
graves  of  children  and  of  youth.  The  Lord  scatters 
abroad  the  seeds  of  life  richly,  and  causes  them  to 
germinate  and  grow  to  a  certain  height,  but  then, 
like  the  gardener  who  sows  thickly  the  seeds  of  the 
plants  which  he  intends  setting  out  in  different 
places,  he  transplants  the  tender  shoots,  in  order 
to  give  them  a  fairer  climate  and  a  more  favorable 
soil. 

The  death  of  youth,  however,  may  not  only 
benefit  them ;  it  is  intended  for  our  welfare  also. 
It  is  intended  to  warn  and  to  admonish  us.  When 
we  see  the  most  beautiful  flowers  wither  as  soon  as 
they  open  their  cups,  or  when  we  see  buds,  nipped 
by  the  frost,  hanging  down  and  withering  before 
they  have  burst  open,  can  we  avoid  thinking  of  the 
vanity  of  all  things  on  earth?     That  we  have  no 

26 


302  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

permanent  home  here,  we  may  know  even  without 
the  Bible ;  history  and  our  own  experience  teach  it. 
Whatever  the  ancient  world  possessed,  whatever 
was  beautiful  in  it,  whatever  was  great  and  at- 
tractive and  noble  in  it,  has  passed  away ;  the  old 
cedar,  that  witnessed  the  lapse  of  centuries,  decays; 
the  finest  productions  of  nature  wither,  and  the 
sweetest  fruits  return  to  the  dust.  Nothing  re- 
mains the  same.  Society  changes  ;  the  whole  race 
is  in  a  state  of  constant  commotion.  There  are 
some  arriving  and  others  going;  we  ourselves  see 
the  most  cheerful  days  of  strength  and  vigor  pass 
away  like  a  shadow ;  and  when  we  think  of  using 
our  time  with  wisdom  and  prudence,  we  have  al- 
ready approached  old  age,  and  feel  exhausted  and 
powerless.  But  if  we  are  taught  by  everything 
around  us  that  nothing  on  earth  is  permanent,  that 
all  is  either  in  a  state  of  constant  progress  or  decay, 
that  nothing  remains  the  same  even  for  a  moment, 
and  that  we  ourselves  are  changing  every  day  and 
every  hour,  can  we  help  thinking  of  our  latter  end  ? 
Sooner  or  later  death  will  seize  each  one  of  us, 
whether  prepared  for  eternity  or  not.  Sooner  or 
later  we  shall  have  to  part  with  this  life  and  with 
all  we  loved,  with  all  our  wishes,  with  all  our 
pleasures,  and  with  all  our  possessions;  and  nothing 
will  be  left  to  us  except  the  love  of  a  Saviour  and 
the  hope  of  immortality.  Christ  alone  will  then 
cheer  our  hearts,  and  shine  into  the  darkness  of 
death  as  the  stars  of  heaven  shine  into  the  dark- 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  303 

ness  of  night.  He  alone  can  then  sustain  and 
comfort  us,  when  we  must  yield  our  life  to  the  un- 
welcome messenger.  He  teaches  us  that  this  world 
stands  in  connection  with  another,  that  the  soul  is 
divine  and  immortal,  that  whatever  virtue  is  culti- 
vated on  earth  will  bloom  in  Heaven  and  bear 
eternal  fruits,  and  that  there  the  changes  to  which 
the  soul  is  subject  while  on  earth,  will  affect  it  no 
more. 

One  thing  is  certain :  all  of  us  must  die.  But 
when  each  one  will  be  called  away,  is  known  to 
none.  The  death  of  our  young  friends  admonishes 
us,  however,  to  be  ready  at  all  times.  Let  us  not  be 
thoughtless,  but  serious  and  earnest.  Death  may 
approach  us  soon;  what,  then,  will  a  long  or  a 
short  life  profit  us,  if  we  have  not  endeavored  to 
secure  for  ourselves  the  happiness  of  Heaven  ?  Our 
spirit  longs  for  it;  we  cannot  endure  the  thought  of 
disappointment.  Every  joy  we  feel,  causes  the 
heart  to  desire  another  joy  that  is  purer  and 
greater;  any  degree  of  happiness  awakens  the 
hope  in  our  bosom  of  perfect  happiness;  and  all 
the  pleasures  of  earth  cause  us  to  long  for  unin- 
terrupted beatitude  in  Heaven.  Can  we  be  so  un- 
wise as  to  neglect  our  highest  interests,  both  for 
time  and  eternity?  so  unwise  as  to  see  death  rage 
on  all  sides,  and  yet  not  ask  ourselves,  whether,  if 
called  before  the  bar  of  judgment,  we  would  be 
admitted  to  glory  and  honor,  or  be  consigned  to 
shame  and  woe  ? 


304  THE    FINAL     CONFLICT    OF 

In  the  Dext  place,  we  are  admonished  not  to 
overvalue  the  assistance  of  man  in  the  execution 
of  God's  plans.  Though  the  best  and  most  noble 
men  are  frequently  taken  away  from  us,  the  plans 
of  the  Lord  still  continue  to  succeed,  and  are  not 
interrupted  in  the  least.  The  knowledge,  expe- 
rience and  inventions  of  mankind,  may  seem  to 
receive  a  check,  by  the  death  of  one  who  possessed 
the  talents  which  were  able  to  fructify  a  whole  age, 
and  to  exert  a  beneficial  influence  upon  thousands  ; 
but  when  we  come  to  examine  the  question  more 
closely,  we  find  that  whatever  is  good  and  noble 
advances  nevertheless.  We  are  thus  taught,  on 
the  one  hand,  that  the  Lord  will  always  qualify 
such  men  as  He  needs  for  His  work;  and  on  the  other, 
that  He  calculates  but  little  on  our  wisdom,  and 
even  frequently  thwarts  our  best  and  wisest  plans. 
Our  wisdom  is  not  pure;  the  best  motives  of  our 
hearts  are  stained  with  sin ;  how,  then,  can  we 
undertake  to  say,  who  of  us  will  be  the  best  means 
in  the  hands  of  God  to  carry  out  His  purposes  ? 
What  else  do  we  deserve  but  confusion  and  shame, 
when  we  see  our  presumption  disappointed?  It  is 
to  humble  us,  that  the  Lord  takes  that  from  us 
which  we  believe  to  possess  as  our  own.  It  is  to 
disturb  our  ease  and  rest,  that  the  Lord  calls  home 
those  in  whom  we  place  our  dependence  and  confi- 
dence. Whatever  we  have,  whatever  seems  to  have 
been  placed  in  our  hands,  is  still  in  the  hands  of 
the  Lord,  who  can  take  it  again  as  He  has  given  it. 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  305 

The  death  of  youth  may  therefore  teach  us  tvisdom, 
hinnilitij,  and  a  readiness  to  submit  our  will  to  God's 
will,  even  when  it  causes  our  hearts  to  bleed,  when 
it  tears  asunder  the  most  tender  connections. 

And,  considering  this,  ought  we  not  to  feel 
humble  in  view  of  our  own  importance  ?  We  are 
prone  to  overvalue  our  services,  or  to  think  that 
the  world  could  not  go  on  without  us ;  that  good 
and  noble  undertakings  would  have  to  fail,  were  it 
not  for  ourselves;  that  we  alone  are  able  to  perform 
certain  duties  in  the  right  way,  to  make  necessary 
improvements,  and  to  forward  the  endeavors  of  our 
fellow-men.  And  yet  it  is  the  Lord  that  points  out 
the  work,  and  calls  His  servants.  He  chooses 
whom  He  pleases ;  and  whom  He  chooses,  him  He 
also  fits  for  the  performance  of  the  work  intrusted 
to  him.  We  are  His,  all  of  us,  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest ;  the  field  in  which  we  labor  is  His ;  He 
sends  us  into  it ;  He  calls  us  back  from  it ;  as  one 
comes  another  goes ;  but  the  work  will  be  carried 
on,  whether  by  the  one  or  by  the  other.  Let  us 
therefore  learn,  on  the  one  hand,  to  feel  humble 
and  meek,  and,  on  the  other,  to  trust  in  the  Lord ; 
for  He  will  always  qualify  some  to  carry  out  His 
glorious  designs ;  His  work  will  never  be  neglected, 
though  the  best  men  should  sometimes  be  taken 
away  in  the  midst  of  their  labors. 

Another  consideration  deserves  attention.  We 
who  are  left  should  not  forget  to  be  grateful  to  God 
for  His  signal  mercy  towards  us.     Surrounded  by 

26-^ 


306  THE     FINAL     CONFLICT    OF 

death  as  we  are,  seeing  how  few  of  lis  are  destined 
to  escape  the  many  dangers  which  beset  our  lives, 
and  realizing  that  we  are  weak  and  frail  beings, — we 
cannot  but  acknowledge  that  God  has  been  merciful 
towards  us  in  that  He  has  kindly  permitted  us  to 
reach  those  years  in  which  we  are  able  to  know 
ourselves,  to  know  Him,  and  to  appreciate  the  value 
of  life.  In  proportion  as  we  enjoy  our  existence, 
in  proportion  as  we  love  to  see  the  light  of  the  sun, 
to  use  our  bodily  strength,  to  cultivate  pleasant 
acquaintances,  to  attend  to  our  daily  pursuits,  to 
observe  the  occurrences  of  the  day,  and  above  all 
to  taste  the  sweetness  of  intercourse  with  friends, 
and  parents,  and  brothers,  and  children,  in  that 
proportion  ought  our  hearts  to  overflow  with  grati- 
tude towards  God.  Some  of  us  have  seen  our 
lives  preserved  in  times  when  the  friends  of  our 
youth  were  taken  from  our  side.  We  have  now 
reached  an  age  that  is  laden  with  experience :  will 
we  not  adore  the  grace  of  Him  who  has  thus  sup- 
ported us  ?  Others  among  us  are  young,  but  no 
one  is  so  young  that  he  has  not  yet  accompanied 
some  one  of  his  friends  to  the  grave :  will  you  not 
consider  that  the  Lord  has  been  kind  and  loving 
in  not  calling  you  away  ?  And  suppose  you  had 
been  laid  low  in  the  dust,  as  were  your  friends, 
would  you  have  been  prepared  to  enter  the  narrow 
habitation  of  the  grave  with  composure  and  in 
peace,  where  the  voice  of  man  is  heard  no  longer 
to  console,  where  the  sun  cannot   send   the   ani- 


THE   inne'r   life.  307 

mating  warmth  of  its  genial  light,  where  all  is 
mute  and  silent,  and  you  would  be  alone  amid  the 
darkness  of  subterraneous  night  ?  It  is  an  awful 
thought  to  have  to  part  with  this  world,  to  submit 
to  being  separated  from  all  the  ties  of  love,  and 
friendship,  and  interest,  and  to  be  covered  with  the 
dust  of  the  earth,  without  knowing  where  we  are 
going  —  whether  a  kind  Saviour  will  receive  our 
spirits  in  the  hour  of  death,  or  we  will  at  once  be 
summoned  to  enter  the  abode  of  eternal  woe.  The 
Lord  has  been  kind  to  us,  for  He  has  permitted  us 
to  live  until  now,  and  to  seek  Him  and  prepare  our- 
selves for  that  last  of  all  the  events  of  our  earthly 
existence.  My  young  friends,  be  not  careless  ;  do 
not  delay  your  preparation  for  death,  lest  it  come 
upon  you  at  such  an  hour  as  you  think  not,  and  it 
be  too  late.  And  if  it  be  too  late,  it  will  be  so  for- 
ever. As  little  as  you  will  be  able  to  recall  life 
and  commence  it  anew  in  the  struggle  of  death,  so 
little  will  contrition  or  regret  be  of  any  avail  then. 
Let  us  then  be  grateful  to  the  Lord,  and  use  His 
mercy  in  a  worthy  manner. 

III.  In  conclusion,  it  remains  to  mention  the 
friend  whose  loss  we  lament  to-day. 

He  connected  himself  with  us  nearly  five  years 
ago.  He  had  commenced  his  education  in  Shep- 
herdstown,  Va.,  and  chosen  our  Institutions  from  a 
peculiar  interest  he  felt  in  their  prosperity.  During 
the  whole  period  of  his  connection  with  us,  Tie 


308  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

maintained  the  same  Christian  conduct  and  zeal  in 
the  cause  of  Christ,  for  whose  sake  alone  he  sought 
a  thorough  education,  and  to  whose  service  he  had 
devoted  all  his  powers.  He  was  truly  pious,  and 
without  ostentation  most  faithful  to  all  the  duties 
of  a  Christian.  Religion  no  doubt  was  the  prime 
beauty  in  his  character;  its  power  penetrated  all 
his  desires  and  inclinations,  his  temper  and  dispo- 
sition, and  made  him  amiahle  and  kind,  modest  and 
forbearing,  reluctant  to  speak  or  think  ill  of  his 
fellow-men,  and  ready  at  all  times  to  aid  every  good 
undertaking.  The  well-formed  resolution  to  de- 
vote himself  to  the  Lord,  made  him  diligent  and 
conscientious  in  the  use  of  his  time.  With  pleasure, 
I  observed  the  regular  progress  he  made  one  Session 
after  another,  his  clear  understanding,  his  sound 
judgment,  and  his  accurate  and  faithful  memory. 
When  he  entered  the  higher  classes,  his  knowledge 
increased  rapidly ;  but  of  all  studies  he  seemed  to 
like  such  most  as  would  nourish,  purify,  and 
strengthen  his  zeal  in  spending  his  life  in  the 
ministry  of  the  Gospel.  Whenever  he  could  see 
religion  supported  by  an  argument  derived  from 
worldly  science,  his  face  would  brighten,  and  it 
was  easy  for  his  teachers  to  perceive  that  he  felt 
delighted  and  grateful.  His  attachment  to  his 
teachers  was  based  on  his  desire  for  future  useful- 
ness ;  he  loved  those  who  would  assist  him  faith- 
fully in  realizing  his  great  purpose.  For  a  long 
time  he  was  under  the  sole  care  of  myself  and  one 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  {309 

colleague;  constant  attendance  to  his  studies  made 
us  familiarly  acquainted  with  him,  and  with  de- 
light and  joy  I  can  give  it  as  our  testimony,  that 
we  learned  to  esteem  and  love  him,  and  shall  never 
forget  him,  who  has  endeared  himself  so  much  to 
us.     We  shall  remember  him  as  long  as  we  live. 

But  while  we  his  teachers  mourn  over  his  loss,  I 
see  that  little  band  before  me  whose  number  was 
small  and  now  is  lessened  by  one.  To  his  class- 
mates our  departed  friend  was  closely  united ;  with 
them  he  loved  to  enjoy  himself;  in  their  society  he 
took  delight ;  with  them  he  felt  reluctant  to  part. 
With  them  he  loved  to  study  and  to  pray ;  with 
them  he  hoped  to  labor  and  to  become  useful  in  the 
same  vineyard  of  the  Lord,  as  he  told  me  when  I 
saw  him  last.  There  was  never  perhaps  a  class 
knit  together  more  closely  than  the  one  to  which 
he  belonged.  Attached  to  the  Institution,  willing 
to  cling  to  it  in  adversity  as  well  as  in  prosperity, 
they  saw  themselves  united  not  only  by  common 
pursuits,  by  the  same  instruction  and  progress,  but  by 
common  interests,  by  similar  views,  by  one  faith  and 
one  object.  They  had  one  call,  that  of  the  minis- 
try ;  one  field  of  labor  awaited  them,  and  one  spirit 
animated  their  hearts.  They  loved  each  other 
very  much,  because  there  was  not  one  among  them 
who  did  not  love  the  Saviour.  And  now,  my  young 
friends,  one  of  your  number  has  gone  to  this 
Saviour,  leaving  you  behind  in  the  world,  never  to 
see  him  again  on  earth,  never  to  speak  to  him,  nor 


310  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OF 

to  press  his  hand  again.  One  link  in  the  chain  has 
been  broken — a  link  that  can  never  again  be  sup- 
plied ;  for  you  cannot  again  so  grow  together  with 
any  one  else ;  one  has  reminded  you  that  all  on 
earth  is  transitory,  and  that  God's  ways  are  not 
our  ways,  and  His  plans  not  our  plans.  What  then 
shall  I  say  to  you  ?  When  the  heart  is  full  of  sad- 
ness and  grief,  it  cannot  give  counsel.  But,  never- 
theless, two  admonitions  I  desire  to  deposit  in  your 
bosoms. 

Cling  together  in  love  and  in  the  spirit  which 
animated  our  deceased  friend.  Love,  my  dear 
friends,  alone  can  effect  what  is  great  and  noble  on 
earth;  love  is  the  principal  qualification  of  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel ;  love  was  demanded  of  Peter 
before  he  was  permitted  to  take  care  of  Christ's 
lambs;  and  love  must  unite  you,  if  you  would 
realize  what  you  (together  with  our  departed  friend) 
hope  to  effect.  The  loss  which  you  have  sus- 
tained can  only  be  repaired  in  some  degree  by  the 
increased  strength  of  love. 

And,  secondly,  consider  that,  when  the  Lord 
takes  one  from  the  midst  of  us,  those  who  are  left 
ought  to  divide  his  share  of  labor  ammig  them- 
selves. The  work  of  the  Lord  must  not  suffer,  and 
if  you  would  honor  the  memory  of  the  departed,  his 
part  must  be  performed  as  well  as  that  of  each  of 
you.  If  he  can  observe  you  on  earth,  he  will  con- 
sider it  the  most  noble  tribute  of  respect  if  his  death 
should  lead  you  to  double  your  zeal — if  you  should 


THE     INNER    LIFE.  311 

each  resolve  to  be  as  much  more  active  as  may  be 
necessary  to  make  up  for  his  loss.  Be  devoted  to 
your  Lord,  therefore ;  suffer  the  Spirit  of  Christ  to 
fill  your  hearts;  study  and  labor  conscientiously, 
that  you  may  announce  the  word  of  salvation  with 
profit  to  all  who  shall  hear  you.  Do  not  forget  that 
your  calling  is  a  high  one,  that  it  demands  much 
piety  and  perseverance,  and  that  you  must  one  day, 
as  our  beloved  friend  has  done,  give  an  account  of 
the  manner  in  which  you  fulfilled  its  obligations. 

And  to  you,  my  young  friends,  who  were  not  as 
closely  related  to  the  deceased  as  his  classmates  of 
the  Seminary,  but  who  nevertheless  knew,  and  ad- 
mired, and  loved  him,  I  desire  likewise  to  direct  a 
few  words.  You  have  been  admonished  repeatedly 
how  we  who  live  bound  together  so  closely,  may  be 
separated  in  a  very  short  time. 

Let  me  then  entreat  you  to  be  careful  in  your 
intercourse  with  each  other.  Love  each  other;  be 
kind  to  each  other ;  aid  and  assist  each  other,  lest 
you  regret  what  you  have  done  to  a  fellow-student 
when  it  will  be  out  of  your  power  to  obtain  his 
forgiveness  or  make  reparation. 

Consider,  also,  that  only  so  much  of  the  life  of  a 
man  is  worthy  of  remembrance  and  of  admiration  as 
is  noble.  But  that  which  distinguishes  the  noble 
from  the  ignoble,  the  spiritual  from  the  sensual,  is, 
that  the  latter  desire  only  what  renders  them 
comfortable  in  this  life  —  what  will  satisfy  their 
sensual  appetites  and  wants — what  will  bring  them 


312  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT    OP 

some  personal  advantage.  But  the  noble  endeavor 
to  gain  a  home  in  the  world  of  truth  and  of  holi- 
ness— in  the  world  of  spirit,  which  is  above  the 
things  of  time  and  sense.  For  that  world  they  use 
their  gifts  and  talents,  and  whatever  they  resolve 
and  produce,  bears  the  stamp  of  the  divine  and  the 
spiritual.  To  become  noble,  you  must  free  your- 
selves from  the  merely  sensual  and  take  an  interest 
in  the  spiritual  world — in  religion — in  the  cause  of 
Christ — in  the  salvation  of  your  souls.  To  become 
noble,  you  must  learn  to  resign  what  others  call 
pleasure  and  joy ;  you  must  learn  to  delight  in  de- 
voting yourselves  to  that  which  is  good ;  you  must 
learn  to  offer  your  life  to  the  Lord,  and  be  ready  to 
yield  it  to  Him  cheerfully  whenever  He  calls  on  you 
and  demands  it  of  you.  To  become  noble,  you  must 
learn  to  love  the  good  and  the  true,  because  it  is 
good  and  true.  Learn  then  early  in  life,  that  a 
noble  character — a  worthy  aim  of  our  existence, 
cannot  be  gained  by  a  careless  use  of  time — not  by 
seeking  to  satisfy  the  thirst  of  your  souls  in  the 
cloudy  fountains  of  earth,  but  only  by  drinking 
from  the  crystal  fountains  of  divine  love  and  eternal 
truth.  Consider,  that  your  years  will  pass  by 
rapidly ;  that  earth  cannot  give  you  that  which 
your  immortal  souls  long  for  ;  that  only  in  the  re- 
gions of  spirit  do  flowers  and  fruits  grow  for  eter- 
nity. Be  diligent  and  faithful,  that  having  lived 
to  the  Lord  you  may  also  die  to  the  Lord — that  on 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  313 

the  great  day  of  the  general  harvest  you  may  also 
have  some  precious  sheaves  to  gather. 

One  word  to  the  citizens  of  this  place.  The  de- 
ceased used  to  express  himself  frequently  in  terms 
of  the  highest  regard  for  the  many  friends  he 
numbered  among  you.  He  felt  deeply  grateful,  as 
his  Valedictory  at  our  last  commencement  but  one 
showed  sufficiently,  for  the  kindness  which  he  re- 
ceived from  many  among  you ;  and  now,  standing 
here  in  the  place  of  his  parents,  I  consider  it  my 
duty  to  tender  you  their  thanks  in  their  name.  And, 
in  general,  permit  me  here  to  say,  that  myself  and 
colleagues  will  at  all  times  appreciate  the  kindness 
which  you  may  be  willing  to  extend  to  the  youth 
intrusted  to  us;  much  as  we  are  interested  in  their 
welfare  and  comfort  in  every  respect,  we  shall  still 
feel  thankful  to  you  for  your  desire  and  efforts  to 
make  their  residence  among  strangers  pleasant  and 
agreeable  to  them. 

And  now,  after  we  have  paid  this  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  our  friend,  let  us  leave  this  sanctuary 
in  the  belief  that  his  soul  enjoys  eternal  rest.  If 
any  part  of  life  is  calculated  to  show  to  us  whether 
a  man  lived  to  Christ  or  not,  it  is  the  hour  of  death. 
When  all  that  is  earthly  sinks  away  from  us  into 
darkness,  when  we  know  that  we  are  about  to 
tread  the  path  of  death,  then  it  will  become  mani- 
fest whether  we  loved  the  world  or  the  Saviour. 
In  the  hour  of  death  our  friend  was  calm,  and  even 

27 


314  THE    FINAL    CONFLICT. 

strong  enough  to  console  and  admonish,  those 
around  him.  Thus  the  Lord,  whom  he  served  in 
life,  sustained  him  in  death.  Peace  to  his  memory, 
rest  to  his  soul,  and  praise  to  the  name  of  the  Lord 
forever!     Amen. 


Lord,  our  Heavenly  Father !  support  us  when 
the  night  of  death  approaches  us.  Prepare  us  by 
Thy  grace,  that  on  every  day  we  may  be  ready  to 
depart,  and  that  we  may  not  tremble  when  our 
eyes  close  in  death.  May  we  labor  to  secure  to 
ourselves  Thy  favor ;  may  we  not  build  upon  that 
which  is  transitory,  but  may  we  lay  hold  of  eternal 
life.  Impress  us  with  the  truth,  0  Lord !  that  here 
we  are  pilgrims,  but  that  we  are  called  to  return  to 
that  home  where  all  those  will  be  assembled  who 
loved  each  other  on  earth,  and  who  sought  their 
delio-ht  and  comfort  in  the  Lord. 


THE  FINAL  TRIUMPH  OF  THE  INNER  LIFE. 

Luke  2  :  28-32. 

"  Then  took  he  him  up  in  his  arms,  and  blessed  God,  and  said,  Lord, 
now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen 
thy  salvation,  which  thou  hast  prepared  before  the  face  of  all  people ; 
a  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  and  the  glory  of  thy  people  Israel." 

It  is  the  privilege  of  the  children  of  God  to  be 
led  and  guided  in  this  life  not  so  much  by  their 
own  choice  and  reflection  as  by  the  spirit  of  truth. 
Simplicity  of  heart,  purity  of  disposition,  and  de- 
votedness  to  their  Creator,  make  them  willing  to 
listen  everywhere  for  the  voice  of  God.  To  hear 
it  clearly  and  dispassionately,  they  frequently  turn 
away  from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  world.  To 
impress  it  deeply  upon  their  minds,  that  it  may 
live  there  and  produce  good  fruits,  they  keep  off 
all  wicked  desires  and  stormy  passions.  It  is  thus 
natural  for  them  to  become  initiated  by  the  Holy 
Spirit  into  the  plans  of  God,  for  they  are  not  only 
His  servants,  but  also  His  friends  and  His  children. 

One  of  these  loas  Simeon.  He  had  spent  his  life 
in  works  of  true  piety,  for  the  Holy  Spirit  was  in 
him ;  he  was  not  too  partial  to  his  nation,  nor  con- 


316  THE    FINAL    TRIUMPH    OF 

tracted  in  his  views,  for  he  longed  for  a  Saviour 
who  would  be  a  blessing  to  the  heathen  as  well  as 
to  the  Jews.  For  such  a  Saviour  this  noble-minded 
and  enlightened  servant  of  God  was  anxiously 
waiting;  and  though  old  already,  and  no  doubt 
near  the  grave,  he  was  convinced  that  he  should 
not  die  before  he  had  seen  the  salvation  of  Israel, 
the  sight  of  which  had  been  promised  him.  At 
length  this  blessed  hour  arrived ;  his  patient,  faith- 
ful waiting  was  rewarded,  and  with  joy  and  grati- 
tude he  exclaims,  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace.  These  words  are  the  song  of  one 
who  is  about  to  depart ;  they  are  the  stammering 
of  overflowing  delight;  they  contain  all  that  any 
man  could  desire  to  utter  with  a  full  heart  in  the 
hour  of  death. 

Peace !  How  much  sweetness  and  bliss  there  is 
in  this  little  word !  When  in  a  gloomy  hour,  we 
reflect  on  our  weakness  and  frailty,  when  bodily 
sufferings  and  pains,  when  mental  cares  and  troubles 
agitate  the  mind,  how  happy  are  we  then  if  the 
voice  of  a  friend  whispers  in  our  ears :  Peace ! 

When  our  desires  are  in  a  state  of  tumult — when 
the  passions  rage  within,  and  neither  the  strength 
of  will  nor  a  sense  of  duty  can  war  successfully 
against  them,  how  happy  would  we  be  if  some  kind 
power  should  at  once  send  peace  into  our  bosom. 

When  we  consider  the  mysteries  of  life,  its  many 
dark  and  unexpected  occurrences,  its  unknown  de- 
signs and   purposes — when   we  look   with  regret 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  -       317 

upon  the  past,  and  with  sohcitude  into  the  future, 
which  conceals  in  its  veiled  bosom  what  it  has  in 
reserve  for  us,  then  we  feel  that  we  stand  in  need 
of  peace. 

When  the  remembrance  of  our  sins  will  not  die 
— when,  while  we  grow  older  it  grows  stronger — 
when  sleep  is  a  stranger  to  our  couch,  and  consola- 
tion is  nowhere  to  be  found,  then  we  know  how 
sweet  it  must  be  to  possess  j^eace. 

But  at  no  time  is  this  little  word  jyeace  a  more 
welcome  messenger,  a  more  musical  sound  than  in 
the  hour  of  death.  Happy  the  man  upon  whose 
dying  ear  the  word  peace  falls.  He  knows  that  it 
comes  from  the  Saviour ;  for  in  Him  alone  is  there 
peace  ;  out  of  Him  there  is  none.  We  may  write 
on  the  monuments  of  our  deceased  friends  :  Peace 
to  their  ashes !  but  unless  Christ  gives  them  peace, 
it  is  but  a  pious  wish  which  can  never  be  fulfilled. 
In  vain  would  we  seek  for  peace  in  the  schools  of 
human  wisdom,  or  in  the  halls  devoted  to  pleasure, 
or  in  social  intercourse,  or  in  solitude  :  Christ  alone 
is  the  source  of  true  peace ;  and  only  he  who  has 
seen  Him  by  the  eye  of  faith  can  have  peace. 

This  is  the  meaning  of  the  text,  and  this  will  be 
my  theme.  Simeon,  though  near  his  death,  had 
not  yet  found  peace ;  but  as  soon  as  he  saw  the 
long-expected  Saviour,  peace  filled  his  soul  and 
reigned  over  his  dying  hour.  I  shall  therefore 
prove  from  my  text  this  morning, 

27* 


318  THE    FINAL    TRIUMPH    OF 

That  no  Christian  has  ever  regretted  that  he  was  a 
Christiaii,  hut  that  many  a  man  has  regretted  in  the 
hour  of  death  that  he  was  not  a  Ghristia?i. 

The  fact  which  I  am  about  to  establish,  has  been 
experienced  so  generally,  that  even  a  decided  in- 
fidel would  not  demand  many  proofs.  The  dying 
bed  of  every  true  Christian  bears  witness  to  it. 
Though  many  a  pious  man  may  have  been  heard 
in  his  dying  hour  to  express  regret  on  account  of 
many  things  which  appeared  innocent  in  the  time  of 
his  vigor  ;  though  many  a  pious  man  may  have  been 
heard  to  utter  the  wish,  that  it  might  be  in  his 
power  to  recall  many  of  his  actions  and  to  extin- 
guish the  remembrance  of  all  his  sins  forever;  yet, 
none  has  ever  regretted  having  been  a  servant  of 
Jesus  Christ.  The  biography  of  that  Christian  has 
yet  to  appear,  who,  in  the  hour  of  death,  was  sorry 
because  he  had  spent  many  hours  in  the  house  of 
God — because  he  had  embraced  the  cross  of  Christ. 
Standing  on  the  borders  of  two  worlds,  while  time 
sinks  away  behind  him,  and  eternity  rises  up  before 
him,  he  can  never  declare  his  faith  to  have  been 
an  error,  or  his  reverence  of  God  to  have  been  a 
vain  imagination.  Religion  never  led  him  to  any- 
thing wrong,  but  it  taught  him  to  shun  sin ;  and 
if  he  dies  in  peace,  he  owes  it  not  to  nature  but  to 
religion.  No  one  can  call  to  mind  a  single  case, 
either  from  history  or  from  his  own  recollection,  of  a 
genuine  Christian  who  regretted  in  the  hour  of  death 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  319 

that  he  had  hope  in  Christ ;  but  all  of  us  will  be 
prepared  to  bear  witness  to  the  fact,  that  faith  gives 
the  dying  Christian  supernatural  strength,  and 
gains  him  an  enviable  victory  over  all  the  terrors  of 
the  grave.  It  is  but  a  short  time  ago  that  we 
heard  of  the  death  of  a  great  divine,  of  one  whose 
learning  was  eminent,  whose  talents  surpassed 
those  of  most  of  his  contemporaries,  whose  mental 
energies  have  reared  for  him  a  monument  which 
will  never  perish  ;  but  what  was  his  strength  in 
death  ?  Whence  did  he  derive  consolation  and 
peace  ?  Not  from  the  greatness  of  his  wisdom,  nor 
from  the  depth  of  his  intellect,  nor  from  the  high 
honor  which  his  fellow-men  had  accorded  to  him  ; 
but  from  communion  with  Christ  in  the  celebi'ation 
of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

Yet,  without  giving  an  account  of  individual 
cases,  I  would  assert  it  again,  that  manifold  as 
the  views,  pursuits  and  conditions  of  Christians 
may  have  been  in  life,  different  as  the  circum- 
stances may  be  in  which  they  die,  all  find  their 
peace  and  strength  in  the  hour  of  death  in  the 
religion  of  Christ.  Having  seen  salvation,  they 
are  all  of  them  ready  to  exclaim:  Lord,  now 
lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace. 

It  is  certain,  beyond  any  doubt,  that  no  Christian 
has  ever  regretted  that  he  was  a  Christian.  I  may 
challenge  any  one  to  bring  forth  a  single  instance 
to  the  contrary.  But  when  we  turn  our  eyes  upon 
the  dying  bed  of  him  who  is  about  to  expire  in  his 


320  THE     FINAL    TRIUMPH     OF 

sins,  how  the  scene  changes !  Anguish  and  despair 
rest  on  his  face ;  his  lips  pronounce  the  name  of  a 
Saviour  with  trembling;  his  thoughts  turn  away 
with  horror  from  the  contemplation  of  a  future 
judgment,  and  his  breaking  eyes  dare  not  look  into 
that  eternity  which  holds  out  nothing  but  the  pros- 
pect of  pain  and  woe.  If  you  ask  him  what  tor- 
tures his  mind  so  much,  he  will  name  to  you  the 
distance  at  which,  during  life,  he  was  from  God, 
who  now  summons  him  away  by  death.  If  you 
ask  him,  why  the  tears  of  sorrow  flow  so  freely,  he 
will  answer,  the  recollection  of  so  many  lost,  dese- 
crated, sinfully  spent  hours  of  h  is  former  life.  If  you 
ask  him,  what  only  wish,  what  chief  desire  agitates 
his  fainting  heart,  he  will  tell  you  that  it  relates  to 
religion ;  that  he  longs,  if  it  be  possible,  to  become 
reconciled  to  God,  before  he  meets  Him  as  his  Judge. 
Many  a  one  who  scoffed  at  religion  and  was  a  hero 
in  infidelity  during  the  days  of  youth,  health  and 
pleasure,  grasps  at  religion  in  the  hour  of  death, 
and  bears  witness  to  its  saving  and  consoling  power. 
Then  he  feels  that  none  can  come  to  God,  nor 
please  Him,  without  faith — without  hope — without 
a  Saviour  on  whom  to  depend.  Left  to  himself 
and  to  his  sins,  he  feels  that  the  judgment  of 
eternity  is  passed  upon  him  already,  and  he  dies  in 
despair.  There  may,  indeed,  be  some  exceptions ; 
it  may  be,  that  some  ungodly  men  die  without  any 
apparent  struggle,  but  these  instances  will  be  rare, 
while  those  which  I  have  alluded  to,  are  but  too 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  321 

common.  We  must  remember  also,  that  we  do 
not  hear  every  secret  sigh,  nor  see  every  concealed 
tear,  nor  perceive  the  internal  workings  of  the  heart 
of  every  sinner  in  the  hour  of  death. 

Let  us  see  now,  in  the  second  place,  that  the 
experience  which  I  have  shown  to  be  general,  has 
its  ground  and  necessity  in  the  nature  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  and  that  it  consequently  cannot  he 
otherivise.  In  the  hour  of  death,  every  one  must 
feel  delight  or  anguish,  according  as  he  has  or  has 
not  lived  in  close  communion  with  God ;  for  the 
religion  of  Christ  alone  gives  light,  peace  and 
hope. 

To  prove  this  position,  we  must  turn  our  atten- 
tion to  the  consideration  of  that  solemn  hour  which 
awaits  every  one  of  us  at  the  appointed  time.  For 
it  is  at  death  only  that  we  can  see  what  man  Avas 
in  life ;  what  was  the  nature  of  the  roch  on  which 
he  reposed  his  confidence ;  what  was  the  anchor  of 
his  hope,  the  soul  of  his  actions,  and  the  foundation 
of  his  earthly  existence.  As  long  as  we  enjoy 
health  and  vigor,  desires  and  passions  may  reign  in 
us  and  clajm  our  exclusive  attention ;  during  their 
reign,  nothing  is  more  attractive,  nothing  more 
pleasing  than  the  sight  of  the  objects  to  which  we 
tend  by  our  natural  propensities ;  and  we  hate  and 
turn  away  from  whatever  is  at  war  with  these 
dominant  passions,  or  is  calculated  to  cool  the  ardor 
of  our  feelings.     All  the  demands  of  our  moral 


322  THE    FINAL    TRIUMPH    OF 

and  spiritual  nature  we  may  therefore  succeed  in 
silencing,  by  keeping  the  mind  occupied  exclusively 
with  the  demands  of  our  sensual  nature. 

But  in  the  hour  of  death,  the  case  is  just  the 
reverse.  Then  our  senses  are  relaxed ;  no  desire, 
no  passion  rages  any  longer ;  but  the  demands  and 
claims  of  the  soul  call  loudly  upon  us.  Then  we 
are  placed  on  a  lofty  summit,  from  which,  when  we 
look  back,  we  may  once  more,  and  for  the  last  time, 
review  the  country  with  which  we  are  about  to  part, 
and  which  lies  behind  us  in  the  light  of  memory ; 
but  when  we  look  forward,  that  dark  and  unknown 
land  presents  itself,  which  is  about  to  receive  us 
and  to  keep  us  forever.  Thus  standing  on  the 
borders  of  two  worlds,  the  one  designed  to  prepare 
us  for  the  other,  the  one  sinking  into  darkness  and 
confusion  as  the  light  of  the  other  dawns  upon  us, 
can  we  help  asking  ourselves,  whether  we  are  pre- 
pared to  become  a  citizen  of  the  new  country  ? 
Will  not  then,  if  ever,  questions  present  themselves 
like  these:  What  am  I?  What  is  all  this  that 
surrounds  me?  Whence  am  I?  Whither  am  I 
going?  What  is  my  destination?  What  is  the 
destination  and  end  of  the  world?  What  will 
become  of  me,  when  my  eyes  close  in  death  ?  Is 
it  design  or  chance,  wisdom  or  a  blind  fate,  that 
reigns  over  the  occurrences  of  the  world,  over  the 
actions  of  man,  their  causes  and  consequences  ?  Is 
there  a  Providence?  Is  there  a  God?  What  is 
His  power  over  me?     What  will  He  demand  of 


THE     INNER    LIFE.  323 

me?  Has  He  provided  a  way  by  which  I  might 
have  satisfied  the  just  claims  of  His  law — by  which 
I  might  have  attained  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth, 
to  the  possession  and  practice  of  virtue,  and  to  the 
hope  of  eternal  happiness?  What  must  I  fear  in 
meeting  the  Judge  of  my  life  ?    What  may  I  hope  ? 

Who  would  not  be  alarmed  when  such  questions 
as  these  present  themselves,  as  he  is  about  to  draw 
his  last  breath ! 

But  now,  let  us  for  a  moment  compare  the  death 
of  the  Christian  with  that  of  the  impenitent  sinner ; 
let  us  suppose  that  both  ask  themselves  the  same 
questions ;  and  who,  think  you,  has  the  greater 
llyht  ?  At  the  couch  of  the  Christian,  Christ  whis- 
pers the  words :  /  am  the  loayy  the  truth,  and  the 
life  ;  lam  the  light  of  the  world!  He  that  followeth 
7ne,  shall  not  icalk  in  darkness,  hut  shall  have  the 
light  of  life.  All  darkness,  all  errors,  all  doubts, 
all  ignorance  and  superstitious  fears  have  been  dis- 
pelled by  the  light  of  Christ ;  in  this  light  the 
Christian  walks ;  he  knows  God  and  fears  Him;  he 
confides  in  Him,  and  is  convinced  that  all  things 
stand  under  His  sovereignty  ;  that  He  orders  and 
reigns  over  all  things,  that  He  directs  and  over- 
rules all  things  for  the  best  interests  of  His  chil- 
dren. And  as  during  life  the  Christian  perceived 
light,  and  order,  and  wisdom  everywhere,  so  in  the 
hour  of  death  he  praises  God,  and  commends  his 
spirit  into  the  hands  of  the  Saviour. 

But  it  must  be  far   otherwise  with    an  uncon- 


324  THE    FINAL     TRIUMPH    OF 

verted  man.  He  lias  always  opposed  religion,  be- 
cause it  opposed  his  sensual  desires ;  he  has  rejected 
it  as  superstition,  because  he  could  not  endure  its 
serious  admonitions — because  he  could  not  endure 
the  truth,  requiring  him  to  turn  and  become  a  new 
man  ;  he  has  sought  for  every  pretext  and  has  used 
every  trifling  excuse  to  justify  him  in  rejecting  the 
grace  of  the  Saviour ;  for  it  was  his  great  desire  to 
indulge  his  passions  and  vitiated  inclinations  with- 
out the  least  interference.  Now,  however,  the 
charm  of  sensuality  is  dissolved ;  the  cold  hand  of 
death  is  laid  upon  him ;  the  power  of  lust  and  sen- 
sual pleasure  dwindles  into  nothing ;  the  fire  of  im- 
agination, always  the  busy  servant  of  all  his  vices, 
is  extinguished,  and  gives  place  to  cool  and  impar- 
tial reflection  :  then,  at  once,  without  any  previous 
preparation,  all  things  appear  differently  from  what 
they  seemed  to  be  before ;  his  former  labors  and 
toils  seem  to  be  idle,  his  earthly  fortune  to  be  vain, 
his  designs  and  hopes  to  be  without  any  foundation. 
In  this  sad  state  of  disappointment,  all  his  former 
views  of  things  are  confounded — his  former  wisdom 
becomes  ignorance  and  folly.  He  desires  light,  but 
it  is  too  late.  He  is  about  to  die,  and  all  he  can 
do  is  to  accuse  himself  of  his  extreme  perverse- 
ness,  in  choosing  darkness  as  his  guide,  instead  of 
light — in  rejecting  eternal  happiness,  in  order  to 
enjoy  the  short  and  transient  pleasures  of  earth. 

Another  reason  why  the  dying   Christian  does 
not  regret  that  he  has  lived  the  life  of  a  Christian, 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  325 

and  the  dying  sinner  cannot  help  regretting  that 
he  has  not  accepted  the  offers  of  mercy,  is  derived 
from  the  nature  of  conscience. 

There  is,  at  all  times,  a  monitor  in  the  breast  of 
all  men,  which  reminds  them  of  the  Divine  law ; 
which  judges  in  us  of  every  action  that  we  hear  of, 
and  constrains  us  to  acknowledge  the  guilt  or  merit 
of  our  own  actions.  But  its  voice  may  be  misun- 
derstood or  even  silenced  by  a  determination  not  to 
listen  to  it ;  conscience  may  slumber,  or  suffer  us  to 
go  on  in  our  wickedness ;  we  may  stifle  its  voice  by 
our  occupations,  pleasures,  or  dissipations ;  we  may 
mock  at  it  by  untimely  wit,  and  defend  our  evil 
conduct  in  defiance  of  its  accusations ;  and  we  may 
attempt  to  bribe  it  by  fallacious  arguments,  or 
render  its  judgment  partial  and  favorable  to  our 
wishes.  All  this  is  possible  while  we  are  strong 
and  vigorous,  while  sin  exercises  its  full  power  in 
us,  and  while  we  desire  and  long  for  nothing  but 
for  sinful  indulgence.  But  it  is  otherwise  in  the 
hour  of  death.  Then  conscience  speaks  clearly; 
then,  as  if  during  life  it  had  accurately  and  care- 
fully collected  and  treasured  up  every  small  or 
great  sin  for  the  purpose  of  vindicating  its  insulted 
rights  at  a  future  period,  it  reminds  us  of  every 
error  and  wilful  transgression  ;  it  reminds  us  of  a 
Judge  who  will  call  us  to  an  account,  and  terrifies 
us  by  the  thought  that  we  have  acted  without  any 
regard  to  His  authority,  and  have  offended  Him 

28 


326  THE     FINAL     TRIUMPH     OF 

by  denying  Him  that  reverence  and  obedience 
which  we,  as  His  creatures,  owe  Him. 

And  who  do  you  think  will  have  the  more  peace 
in  that  awful  hour,  the  Christian  or  the  impenitent 
sinner  ? 

Let  us  consider,  for  a  moment,  the  condition  of 
the  sinner.  Forsaken  by  the  occupations  that  once 
diverted  his  mind — by  the  hopes  that  once  fluttered 
around  his  imagination — by  all  the  earthly  enjoy- 
ments that  once  pleased  and  delighted  him,  and 
by  the  vain  and  idle  dreams  in  which  he  once  lost 
himself; — he  discovers  that  nothing  of  all  he  once 
thought  desirable  has  followed  him  faithfully  to 
the  gates  of  eternity  except  his  conscience.  And 
what  consolation,  what  comfort,  will  or  can  con- 
science afford  him  ?  He  has  not  listened  to  its 
voice,  but  has  abused  and  insulted  it ;  he  has  not 
believed  its  admonitions,  but  has  mocked  its  en- 
treaties. Hence  conscience,  instead  of  giving  him 
peace,  must  become  a  source  of  unhappiness  and 
despair.  Conscience  was  given  to  man  as  a 
heavenly  genius,  not  only  to  lead  him  safely 
through  the  errors  of  this  life,  but  also  to  the 
Saviour.  And  conscience  was  faithful,  but  sin 
darkened  and  overruled  it.  Now,  at  the  approach 
of  death,  when  conscience  again  has  resumed  its 
sway,  it  holds  up  to  the  dying  sinner  above  all  that 
one  great  sin  of  unhelief ;  and  how  terrible  must  a 
sense  of  this  sin  be  ?  When  in  common  life  we 
withhold  belief  from  a  statement  made  by  one  of 


THE     INNER    LIFE.  327 

our  fellow-men,  we  fear  to  insult  him  by  such  want 
of  confidence ;  how  awful,  then,  must  the  reproaches 
of  conscience  be  to  the  impenitent  in  the  final  hour, 
because  they  have  not  believed  Him  who  has  never 
deceived  them,  who  has  loved  them,  and  has  been 
their  Benefactor  ever  since  they  were  born.  Add 
to  this  the  weight  of  the  remembrance  of  all  their 
sins  without  the  least  hope  of  reconciliation,  a 
sense  of  the  nearness  of  judgment  without  the  pos- 
sibility of  embracing  Christ,  and  their  ignorance  of 
the  kind  and  degree  of  punishment  which  awaits 
them  ;  and  we  must  say,  it  is  natural — it  cannot  be 
otherwise :  in  the  hour  of  death,  the  impenitent 
sinner  must  regret  his  having  remained  an  unbe- 
liever. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  look  upon  the  Chris- 
tian, the  scene  changes  entirely.  That  greatest  of 
all  sins,  which  can  never  be  forgiven,  the  sin  of 
unbelief,  does  not  terrify  him.  He  has  believed 
the  word  of  his  Creator;  he  has  trusted  in  His 
■Nvord  in  life,  and  hence  he  has  a  right  to  trust  in 
His  compassion  in  death.  His  conscience,  like  that 
of  the  sinner,  reminds  him  of  many  a  sin,  tells 
him  that  there  is  nothing  in  him  on  which  he  can 
rely,  but  his  faith  in  Christ  gives  him  peace ;  while 
his  conscience  speaks  of  the  displeasure  of  God,  his 
faith  speaks  of  love  and  mercy.  God  is  indeed  his 
Lord  and  his  Judge,  but  he  is  also  his  Father ;  he 
has  repented  of  sin,  and  hence  he  is  certain  of  the 
forgiving  grace  of  God.     Christ  has  sufiered  for 


328  THE    FINAL    TRIUMPH    OF 

him,  and  procured  him  pardon.  Him  he  will  meet 
sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God ;  His  he  was  during 
life ;  His  he  will  be  in  death.  As  Christ  succored 
him  in  many  temptations,  He  will  be  with  him, 
too,  in  his  last  trial.  Peace  reigns  in  his  bosom ; 
there  is  peace  around  his  dying  bed;  and  peace 
streams  from  his  lips,  to  animate  and  encourage 
those  around  him. 

The  last  argument  by  which  I  intend  to  prove 
the  above-mentioned  experience  is  derived  from  the 
fact,  that  no  man  can  either  live  in  peace  or  die  in 
peace  without  hope. 

No  man  can  live  in  peace  toithout  liope  !  No  one 
has  ever  lived — no  one  has  finished  his  course  on 
earth  without  passing  through  many  sufferings  and 
troubles.  To  be  mortal,  to  be  surrounded  by  a 
world  that  is  perishable  with  all  it  offers,  and  still 
to  be  always  happy,  is  a  contradiction.  Even  our 
joys  are  inseparably  interwoven  with  our  sufferings ; 
the  former  cannot  be  obtained  without  the  latter ; 
for  every  pleasure  is  nothing  else  but  the  satisfaction 
of  a  want,  and  every  want  is  painful.  There  are 
the  sufferings  of  the  mind  and  of  the  body — the 
sufferings  of  love  and  of  friendship,  of  hatred  and 
of  enmity ;  they  follow  each  other  quickly,  and  the 
one  increases  the  bitterness  of  the  other.  What  is 
it  now  that,  under  the  many  stings  of  grief  and 
of  pain,  can  preserve  peace  within.  Is  it  not  hope, 
which,  in  the  midst  of  pain,  anticipates  pleasures 
yet  to  come?     Is  it  not  hope  that,  when  all  the 


THE     INNER     LIFE.  329 

fountains  of  pleasure  and  of  wealth  are  drained, 
points  out  new  ones  ?  that,  when  our  plans  do  not 
prosper,  when  others  enjoy  the  fruits  of  our  labors, 
when  friends  separate  from  us,  and  when  we  are  left 
to  ourselves  and  to  our  misfortunes,  paints  in  glow- 
ing colors  other  and  better  times  hereafter  ?  The 
man  who  lives  without  hope,  lives  in  despair ;  he 
cannot  enjoy  peace. 

But  if  no  man  can  live  in  peace  without  hope, 
neither  can  any  one  die  in  peace  without  hope. 
When  the  grave  yawns  to  receive  us — when  we 
know  that  in  a  few  hours  we  must  part  with  the 
world — with  the  sweet  custom  to  be  and  to  live — 
with  honors  and  riches,  and  with  all  the  glories  of 
earth — when  we  feel  death  laying  its  icy  hand  upon 
our  hearts,  and  when  we  cannot  help  looking  for- 
ward into  the  dark  night  to  which  we  will  be  con- 
signed in  the  grave  :  will  we  not  ask  then  whether 
this  night  will  continue  forever  ?  whether  we  shall 
have  to  lose  life  and  all  its  blessings  without  recom- 
pense ?  whether  we  shall  all  become  dust  ?  whether 
we  shall  cease  to  be  when  the  motion  of  our  limbs 
ceases,  and  the  circulation  of  the  blood  is  stopped? 
But  suppose  that  in  me  which  thinks  and  asks 
these  questions  should  survive  my  bodj^,  what  will 
be  its  fate  ?  In  what  regions  of  the  immeasurable 
system  of  worlds  will  it  be  placed  ?  Who  will  guide 
it?  What  joys  or  what  sorrows  await  it? 

The  impenitent  sinner  has  absolutely  no  answer 
to  any  one  of  these  questions.     There  is  no  hope 

28- 


330  THE    FINAL     TRIUMPH     OF 

to  clieer  him,  no  consolation,  no  comfort  for  him. 
He  has  denied  the  immortality  of  the  soul;  he 
has  denied  a  state  of  final  retribution ;  but  a  few 
moments  more,  and  he  will  ascertain  the  fearful 
truth  of  what  he  has  denied ;  but  a  few  moments 
more,  and  he  will  know  that  to  be  a  certainty 
which  before  he  doubted.  From  this  certainty  he 
shrinks;  he  has  nothing  to  hojDC,  but  much,  very 
much,  to  fear.  He  can  gain  nothing  if  his  infidel 
doctrines  should  be  true,  but  must  lose,  and  must 
lose  infinitely,  when  he  discovers  that  the  religion 
of  Jesus  Christ  is  a  reality. 

But  the  Christian  has  hope.  He  has  heard  and 
believed  the  words  of  Christ :  "  I  am  the  resurrec- 
tion and  the  life :  he  that  believeth  in  me,  though 
he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live."  To  him  death  is 
but  the  birth  into  eternal  life.  He  dreads  no 
eternal  night,  no  annihilation ;  he  looks  for  a  glori- 
ous light.  He  leaves  friends  behind  him;  but  he 
hopes  to  see  others  who  have  gone  before  him ;  and 
he  hopes  also  to  see  those  follow  him  whom  he  now 
leaves  behind.  He  does  not  fear^to  walk  along  the 
path  of  death,  for  his  Saviour  will  guide  him.  His 
mind  looks  beyond  the  darkness  of  the  grave,  and 
fixes  itself  upon  the  glorious  day  of  the  general 
resurrection ;  and  he  hopes  to  be  among  those  who 
shall  rise  first,  and  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air. 

If  the  reasons  which  I  have  pointed  out  be  valid, 
we  cannot  marvel  at  the  experience,  that  no  Chris- 
tian ever  regrets  having  been  a  Christian,  while 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  331 

many  a  sinner  weeps  tears  of  bitter  regret,  because 
he  is  not  and  has  not  been  a  Christian.  If  this 
experience  now  is  not  only  general,  but  also  well 
established  by  manifest  reasons,  it  must  follow  that 
all  those  who  reject  religion  in  the  days  of  their 
health,  act  inconsiderately  and  unwisel?/.  In  what- 
ever light  you  may  look  upon  religion,  w^hatever 
objections  you  may  wish  to  bring  against  it,  or  of 
how  little  use  you  may  consider  it  to  be  for  life, 
one  thing  at  least  is  certain  :  it  is  of  the  greatest 
importance  for  the  hour  of  death.  To  be  a  Chris- 
tian cannot  injure  any  one;  on  the  contrary,  reli- 
gion gives  light  to  the  understanding,  peace  to  the 
heart,  consolation  in  our  sufferings,  and  hope  at  the 
gate  of  eternity;  not  to  be  a  Christian  deprives  us 
of  all  these  great  blessings,  and  cannot  confer  a 
single  advantage  by  way  of  recompense.  It  is  in- 
considerate, therefore,  to  live  without  true  faith  in 
Christ. 

It  is  unwise,  also.  No  one  knows  when  or  under 
what  circumstances  he  will  have  to  leave  this  world; 
and  wise  we  certainly  cannot  call  him,  who  ex- 
poses himself,  first  to  the  reproaches  and  tortures 
of  an  awakened  conscience,  and  then  to  eternal 
punishment  beyond  the  grave.  Prudent  even,  we 
cannot  call  him  who  does  not,  to  say  the  least,  take 
at  all  events  the  safe  side,  especially  when  this  can 
be  done  without  sacrificing  a  single  true  pleasure  of 
this  life.  Wise  we  cannot  call  the  man  who  lives 
only  for  this  world,  though  he  has  not  yet  ascer- 


OOZ  THE    FINAL    TRIUMPH    OF 

tained,  nor  will  he  ever  be  able  to  ascertain  with 
mathematical  certainty,  that  there  is  no  future  life 
to  follow  the  present  life.  Nor  can  we  call  him 
wise  who  has  seen  and  believes  that  no  man,  in  the 
hour  of  death,  ever  regrets  having  been  an  earnest 
Christian,  whilst  he  knows  that  many  agonize  in 
despair,  because  they  have  neglected  the  claims  of 
religion  during  life, — if  he  still  continues  to  live 
on  without  God  and  without  hope  in  the  Saviour. 

My  young  friends,  may  it  never  be  the  lot  of 
any  one  among  you  to  die  the  death  of  a  sinner. 
Despair  and  terror,  in  the  hour  of  death,  are  but  the 
foretaste  of  the  bitterness  and  anguish  which  will 
follow.  In  eternity  that  sorrow  commences  which 
shall  never  be  ended.  Embrace  religion,  therefore, 
while  your  days  are  continued  in  the  land  of  mercy; 
act  the  part  of  wisdom,  and  not  that  of  inconside- 
rate folly. 

To  those  who  believe  that  they  have  consecrated 
themselves  to  Christ,  I  would  say,  in  conclusion, 
one  word  more.  It  is  your  duty  to  ascertain,  above 
all  things,  whether  you  are  truly  the  followers  of 
Christ,  or  only  imagine  yourselves  to  be  such.  The 
hour  of  death  will  reveal  the  truth,  if  you  do  not 
discover  it  before.  It  is  not  enough  merely  to  pro- 
fess Christ,  to  have  a  regard  for  religion,  to  attend 
regularly  upon  public  worship,  to  support  all  the 
schemes  of  Christian  benevolence,  to  possess  the 
external  form  of  piety,  and  rely  on  the  promises 
given  to  the  children  of  God  :  your  faith  must  be 


THE    INNER    LIFE.  333 

full  of  life ;  it  must  be  the  faith  of  Simeon ;  a  faith 
that  desires  above  all  to  see  the  Saviour ;  a  faith 
that  purifies  the  heart,  and  inspires  us  with  love  to 
God  and  to  all  men,  to  truth  and  holiness,  and  to 
every  good  and  noble  action.  Search  your  hearts, 
therefore ;  see  whether  they  condemn  you  or  not.  If 
you,  the  professed  followers  of  Christ,  should  be  the 
false  and  mistaken  friends  of  religion,  you  will  be 
forsaken  by  Him  in  the  hour  of  death,  no  less  than 
His  avowed  and  open  enemies. 

But  blessed  and  happy  are  those  who  can  say 
with  a  full  heart,  "  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy 
servant  depart  in  peace."  Acquainted  with  God, 
who  calls  them ;  acceptable  to  Christ,  who  died  for 
them ;  purified  from  sin,  which  the  Holy  Spirit  has 
taught  them  to  hate ;  full  of  zeal  for  all  that  is 
good ;  prepared  and  ripe  for  a  better  world  which 
awaits  them ; — they  part  with  earth  and  earthly 
things,  full  of  joy  and  of  peace ;  and  while  the  gates 
of  Heaven  open  to  receive  them,  earth  follows  them 
with  its  blessings  and  with  its  gratitude.  Christ  is 
their  life,  and  death  will  be  their  eternal  gain. 
Amen. 


FINIS. 


LINDSAY  &  BLAKISTON,  PHILADELPHIA, 

PUBLISH 

THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 


THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.D., 

AVTROU  OF   "lectures  ON   MODERN   HISTORY,"    "THE    HISTORY  OF  ROME,"  &C.,  io. 

In  two  volumes,  12mo. 

Vol.  L  contains  "ITS  COURSE,  ITS  HINDRANCES,  AND  ITS  HELPS." 
VoL  II.  contains  "  ITS  HOPES,  ITS  FEARS,  AND  ITS  CLOSE." 

JRICE,    FOR    THE    TWO    VOLUMES,    $2.00 


The  Publishers  give  beloiu  a  feio  only  of  the  very  many  flattering 
notices  tliey  have  received  of  this  work: — 

We  will  venture  to  affirm  that  with  the  smsle  exception  of  Bisnop  Butler's,  no  sermons  have  ever 
been  printed  which  rontam  so  many  "seeds  of  thought. "  No  unthinking  man  can  read  them  without 
being  benefited.  Our  obligations  to  Arnold  are  so  great  that  we  cannot  let  this  opportunity  pass  with- 
out recommendins  his  works.  Now  that  the  American  publishers  have  printed  this  work  so  well  :iiid 
so  cheaply,  let  them  be  encouraged.  We  hope  every  clergyman  and  every  intelligent  layman  will  pro- 
cure this  volume,  and  thus  encourage  the  publishers  to  print  all  of  Arnold's  sermons,  which  in  the 
English  edition  are  in  six  volumes,  and  cost  to  import  upwards  of  twenty  dollars.  —  Soulliern  Church- 
man. 

His  aim  is  to  make  his  readers  acquainted  with  themselves ;  to  impress  them  with  the  necessity  of 
controliin?  their  passions;  to  unfold  to  them  the  principles  by  which  they  should  be  governed;  to 
exemplify  the  nature  and  the  difficulties  of  piety ;  and  prompt  them  to  a  virtuous,  a  religious,  and  a 
•seful  life.  He  is  never  common-place  nor  prolix.  His  thoughts  are  clear  and  fi-esh,  often  unfolding  his 
suL'jects  in  new  aspects,  and  leading  the  mind  into  fields  never  before  explored,  and  glowing  »rth  objects 
of  unexpected  interest  and  beauty. — Lord's  Review. 

The  Christian  life  is  set  forth  in  these  volumes  with  all  that  delightful  fervor  »nd  force  which  chano- 
terized  the  late  admirable  author.  They  contain  an  exhibition  of  principles  th:  are  of  universal  niteie 
to  the  religious  reader. — Harpers'  Magazine. 

Dr.  Arnold  was  one  of  those  men  who  make  their  mark  upon  the  age  m  which  they  live.  To  great 
experience  of  life  and  knowledge  of  character,  he  united  sound  common  sense,  ami,  with  erudition,  h« 
possessed  what  may  be  termed  a  capacity  for  practical  generalizing.  As  a  teacher  of  youth  and  as  a 
clergyman,  he  "  magnified  his  office,"  and  his  writings  carry  the  evidence  of  the  respect  in  which  ho 
held  his  vocation,  and  of  the  thorough  manner  in  which  he  prosecuted  it.— North  Ameriain. 

We  would  earnestly  counspl  all  parents  to  study  this  book,  and  to  place  it  in  the  hands  of  their 
TOns. — Criterion. 

We  honor  the  boldness  of  (he  man.  we  admire  his  scholarship,  and  we  love  his  piety  — Evangelist. 


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THE  SEPULCHRES  OF  OUR  DEPARTED. 

BY  THE  REV.  F.  R.  ANSPACH,  A.M. 

"As  flowers  which  night,  when  day  is  o'er,  perfume, 
Breathes  the  sweet  memory  from  a  good  man's  tomb." 

Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer. 

Third  Edition.     In  one  Vol.,  12mo.     Price  $1.     Cloth,  gilt.  $1  50. 

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THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 

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A  little  child."— iMrj.  Soulhef. 

Tl.«  general  eontents,  the  devotional  and  lovely  spirit  that  pervades  it,  the  flowing,  lucid,  and  rieli 
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the  Lord,  the  abounding  consolations  for  those  who  in  God's  providence  have  been  called  to  yield  up 
their  little  ones  to  Him  who  gave  them,  these  and  other  characteristics,  render  this  book  one  of  th» 
most  interesting  and  valuable  of  the  kind  that  has  for  a  long  time  been  presented  to  the  public— 
Lutheran  Observer. 

STRUGGLES  FOR  LIFE,  An  Autobiography. 
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What  Sunny  and  Shady  Side  are,  as  descriptive  of  American  Pastoral  Life,  this  delightful  volume  Is 
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•f  human  nature  as  illustrated  in  the  leading  characteristics  of  Engl^h  society,  manners,  aitd  customa. 
—Spectator. 

THE  POETICAL  WORKS  OF  JAMES  MONTGOMER"i. 

The  only  complete  edition  ;  collected  and  prepared  by  him  just  prior  to  his  death. 
With  a  Portrait.     One  Volume,  octavo. 

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The  spirit  of  the  humble  Christian  and  the  pure  Phdaiithropist,  breathes  through  it  all;  and  few  wi* 
rise  from  the  perusal  of  Mr.  Montgomery's  poems  without  feeling  the  elevating  power  of  his  chaste 
and  beautiful  Irnes.  We  are  glad  to  see  such  a  favourite  poet  in  such  graceful  attire.  The  type 
paper,  and  entire  "  getting  up"  of  this  i  olume,  is  in  tasteful  accordapce  with  the  precioiu  (ems  P 
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